Fallen
by iloveyoucalzona
Summary: AU: Callie and Arizona were best friends in high school, but then something tore them apart. When Callie comes back to their hometown twelve years later, will they be able to forgive each other and find love at long last? (Spoiler alert: Yes, they will. Don't worry.)
1. Chapter 1

**Welp. Trying something new. An AU! Let me know which part you liked best, and if I should continue!**

* * *

"Daddy?" Callie prompted, sitting at her father's bedside. "Can I get you anything?" She grabbed the paper cup of water on his side table and angled the straw toward his lips. "Do you want some water?"

Lying down, Carlos just shook his head. "I'm fine, mija. Thank you."

Lucia—sitting on the couch across the hospital room—turned her attention to Callie, her arms crossed. "And where's your sister? Your father has a heart attack, and she doesn't even come home to see him."

Callie shrugged. "I haven't talked to Aria in…a while," she offered cagily. "I don't even know where she is."

Carlos focused on his breathing. Authoritatively, he offered, "She's in France."

Lucia furrowed her brows. "She is? Since when?"

"A few months ago. She said Rich has business there."

"Ay, Rich," Lucia sighed dreamily. She narrowed her eyes at Callie. "And when are _you_ going to find yourself a husband? You really want your father to die before he gets grandkids?"

"Mom!" Callie huffed. "Can we not do this _right now_?"

"I'm just saying," Lucia insisted, "you're already thirty. The clock's ticking."

"You know," Callie decided, standing up, "I really should get back to the house, shower, and unpack a little. I took the red-eye to get here." She bent down, kissing her father's forehead. "Let me know if you need anything, okay, Daddy? I'll come right back if you want me to."

Carlos waved her off. "I'm fine, Calliope. Your mother didn't even have to call you."

Callie rolled her eyes. "Actually, she did. You had a heart attack and then emergency bypass surgery! That's serious. But I'll come back later to check on you, okay?" She squeezed his hand. "Mom, you'll call me if the doctors say anything new?"

"I will," Lucia promised.

Downstairs, Callie caught an Uber to take to her parents' house, and she spent the entire drive with her head resting on the window, watching the world outside pass her by.

At her childhood home, she let herself in, dropped off her stuff in her old bedroom, and then decided she needed to _move_. It was already past seven in the evening, and she'd spent the entire day—and half the night—in the hospital with her parents. That was a lot for anyone to bear, especially with a mother like hers.

She walked the mile to the local orchard, relishing in the feel of the summer sun on her bare shoulders. When she got there, she sat on the floor of the grove, focusing on the sun as it began to sink behind the hills. All around her, the tree shadows lengthened, the cool summer breeze a salve against her glistening skin.

It had been years since she'd been home. _Almost twelve_, she realized. Sure, she'd met up with her family in other places during the holidays, but she had always found an excuse to avoid going to her hometown: she'd worked summer jobs in college and then had argued that she was too busy with work and life ever since then. She'd avoided it like the plague. And she knew why. It was all because of the thing that had happened, right in this very orchard, her final night before leaving for college—the thing she still couldn't get out of her head, no matter how hard she tried.

Unable to bear another moment of sitting and thinking and dwelling on the past, she suddenly took off, running down the rows of trees that extended as far as the eye could see. The landscape made her feel small, and scared, and she was eager to run the length of it, to prove that she could penetrate it—even in a minuscule way. As she ran up the next row of peach trees, she couldn't help but laugh, grateful to feel air in her lungs again—even if it tasted like spoiled fruit. Then, after another minute of running, she collapsed on the ground, her eyes shut and her hands above her head as she worked to slow her breathing.

She didn't know how long she'd lain there when she heard the sound of crackling leaves—something or someone walking toward her. She squinted in the direction of the sound, but the sun was in her eyes, and she couldn't make out anything but a pair of ankles.

"Callie?"

At that, Callie immediately sat up, her head whipping around to face the voice head-on. "Arizona?" Suddenly, she felt like she was underwater: the whole world blurred and she couldn't breathe.

Arizona gave her a hard look—or at least attempted to. "What are you doing here?"

"I…" Callie tried to find her voice as she stood up. Then—defensive—she countered, "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I live here."

Callie's brows furrowed. "You do? Since when?"

"Since a long time ago," Arizona offered vaguely. "Since after you went away."

Callie gulped, her stomach doing somersaults. And not in a good way. She wasn't anxious—more stupefied. For over a decade, she'd hoped never to see Arizona again. And—for over a decade—she'd prayed that, by some miracle, she would. And now the moment had come, and it was as wonderful as she'd predicted it would be. And as devastating.

Callie shut her eyes for a moment as she worked to come up with the words. "I…I didn't mean to trespass. I'm sorry for that."

Arizona looked at her in disbelief. "That's all you're sorry for?"

Callie worked to swallow the stone in her throat. "No," she conceded. "It's not the only thing." Then, she fell silent.

Arizona exhaled a hard breath. She worked to soften her voice. "What are you really doing here? Not just _here_, I mean. What are you doing back in town?"

Callie looked down. "My dad had a heart attack last night."

"Oh," Arizona breathed. After a minute of silence, she tilted her head, gesturing toward the house in the distance. "Come on. Let me make you some tea."

As they walked, Callie followed a few paces behind, taking the opportunity to really take Arizona in. The years had been kind to her: her blonde hair shined in the evening light, and she was as slim and slender as ever, with just enough softness to her stomach and arms to make you want to hug her, knowing her body would feel good against yours. Her shoulders were pocked with tiny freckles and, when she turned her head, Callie saw that her face was freckled, too—likely from time spent outside picking fruit. And she was walking fast, but Callie still noted a slight limp in her step, and she wondered whether all her time spent running and playing softball had finally caught up to her.

Arizona shut her eyes for just a few seconds before unlocking the door, mentally preparing herself for letting Callie in. And not just into her house—but into her _world_ again. For so long, she'd wanted and dreaded an opportunity like this. To see Callie's face again. To hear her voice.

Callie looked around the house's interior as she followed Arizona into the kitchen, taking in the vintage furniture, the Easter basket-colored walls, and the big windows that let in natural golden light. It was all just _so_ Arizona. _She must live here alone,_ Callie realized, and—for some reason—knowing that filled her with a sense of relief. "It's a gorgeous house," she complimented, really meaning it.

Arizona smiled as she filled a pot with hot water and put it on the stove, though the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks."

They sat together at the kitchen island, silent and awkward, looking at everything but each other.

Finally, Arizona asked, "Is he going to be okay?"

"What?"

"Your dad," Arizona clarified. "Is he okay?"

"Oh," Callie breathed. "Yeah. He had to have bypass surgery in the middle of the night, but he's awake now. And, as long as he starts taking better care of himself, the doctors are optimistic that he can live a healthy, decently-long life."

"Good," Arizona nodded. "That's good."

"So," Callie began, "do your parents still live in town?"

Arizona nodded. "In the same little house as always. They never left."

"Did you?" Callie pressed. "Ever leave, I mean."

Arizona let out a humorless laugh. "Wow. You really just disappeared and never looked back, didn't you?"

Chagrined, Callie looked down at the wooden countertop, her thumb rubbing along the grain. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Arizona just looked at her, hoping her eyes didn't reveal her vulnerability. Over the years, the thought of Callie had, undoubtably, brought her pain. But it slowly had lessened, finally becoming only a steady ache, rather than a throbbing torment.

When the teakettle started to scream, she stood up to turn off the heat and pour their tea into mugs. "Mint with honey okay?"

Callie nodded. "That's perfect. Thank you."

Arizona handed her a steaming mug, setting another in front of herself.

Callie blew lightly on the tea, its steam wafting over her face.

Arizona inhaled the scent of mint and shut her eyes, hoping the herb would provide her with some sort of strength—or, at the very least, clarity of mind. With Callie sitting in front of her, she couldn't think straight. She could hardly breathe.

"You own an orchard now," Callie noted, attempting to keep things conversational. "Do you sell the fruit?"

"Yeah. These days, I just farm as a job. It's lucrative enough."

Callie nodded, waiting for Arizona to say more.

"And I know it's a simple life," Arizona added, feeling a little defensive—Callie had gone to Stanford, after all. "But it was a welcome change of pace after Afghanistan. Once I got my feet on the ground again, I bought this place from old Mr. Johnson's kids after he died."

There was a lot to unpack in what Arizona had said: first, that old Mr. Johnson—the orchard's previous owner and the town's resident curmudgeon—had died, and, second, that Arizona had gone off to war. Of course, Callie knew that she came from a family of Marines. But her brother, Timothy, had died fighting while they were still in high school, so Callie never imagined Arizona would want to fight in the same war. She looked at her, dumbfounded. "You went to war?"

Arizona nodded, her lips pursed.

"Wow," Callie articulated, processing. "I had no idea."

"I know," Arizona acknowledged, an edge to her voice. "How could you? You weren't here."

"Arizona…"

Arizona felt her stomach lurch at the sound of her name in Callie's mouth, but she forced herself to stand strong and keep her expression neutral.

Callie perused her face, her eyes soft. Wanting to give some sort of explanation, she offered, "I was scared."

Arizona chuckled darkly. "And I wasn't?"

"It was different for you," Callie insisted. "You already knew."

"Didn't you?" Arizona challenged.

"Yeah," Callie sighed. "I guess I did. And that was what was so terrifying."

Arizona nodded—certainly not agreeing with Callie's decision, but at least recognizing that she had her reasons. "So, how long are you staying?"

Callie shrugged. "My dad's really sick. It's going to take him some time to recover, so I think I'll be here for a while—the summer, at least. Maybe longer."

"Won't people miss you?" Arizona pressed. "At work…and stuff?" She knew she was fishing, and she hoped Callie wouldn't notice.

Callie smiled at her—perhaps more generously than she deserved, Arizona acknowledged. "No. I'm an English teacher, so I have summers off, anyway."

Despite herself, Arizona was glad to learn more about Callie—even though she wished she didn't care. "High school?"

Callie nodded. "A Catholic high school back in San Francisco. I started working there after Stanford, and I've been there ever since."

"So, you'll be here this summer and then you'll go back to California?" Arizona guessed, trying to mentally prepare herself for Callie leaving. _Again_.

"I don't know yet," Callie admitted. "This will always be home, you know? Maybe I'll find a reason to stay."

* * *

As they said goodbye, Arizona offered a weak smile. "Let your dad know I'm thinking of him."

"I will," Callie promised. "And Arizona?" She turned back to look at her, taking in that freckled face, those bright blue eyes—trying to commit it all to memory. "It was really good to see you."

* * *

Arizona had planned on baking a peach pie that evening, but—after seeing Callie—she just couldn't find the energy to do it. Instead, she collapsed in her bed and shut her eyes.

It had felt like a lifetime since she'd seen Callie. On good days, Arizona almost had been able to forget she'd ever existed at all. More often, though, thoughts of Callie lived in the back of her mind, cobwebbed but always there, a constant reminder.

They'd been best friends once, after all. More than best friends. But, then, there had been that night in the orchard that had changed everything. And then Callie had left. And Arizona had seen the war. And she'd lost her leg. And the trauma of that, the long physical and emotional recovery, the near giving-up—Callie had missed it all. She'd left. And it felt like a part of her was still gone.

Eventually, Arizona dozed off. A little after 5a.m., though, she found herself wide awake and unable to fall back asleep. With a sigh, she sat up and donned her prosthesis, deciding she may as well be productive. She grabbed a few baskets from the garden shed as she headed for the trees, determined to spend her morning picking fruit to sell at the farmers' market that following Sunday.

She strode through the grove, the predawn a misty navy blue, and took a deep breath, inhaling the moisture in the air, its earthy scent. As she continued to walk, she looked at the ground, trying to discern which footsteps were her own and which were Callie's.

It was funny, she realized—and not in a ha-ha way, but in a curious, peculiar way—that Callie had come to the orchard on her first evening home. Sure, they used to walk through it together as teenagers, despite old Mr. Johnson's threats and menacing hunting rifle, but that was years ago. And then, of course, they had come to the orchard on that final night—but why would Callie want a reminder of that?

Needing a distraction from her own thoughts, she rode her bike to her childhood home after eating breakfast. Her parents were, if nothing else, predictable, and Arizona was grateful for that. She knew they'd be home. She knew her mother had fried her father two eggs for breakfast. She knew her father would be on the front porch in his Adirondack chair, watching the neighborhood kids run up and down the road as he read the newspaper.

And, sure enough, there Daniel was, sitting on the front porch as Arizona made her way up the road and caught his eye. "Morning, Dad."

Daniel smiled at her, mellower in his retirement. "Morning, darlin'. It's been a while since you've visited us."

Arizona bent down to kiss his cheek, and he kissed hers back. "I know. I figured I owed you a visit."

"Your mother will be glad to see you. She's inside."

Arizona made her way into her childhood home and found her mom in the kitchen, doing the dishes. "Hey, Mom," she tried to smile.

Barbara turned away from the sink and met her eyes. "Arizona!" She took a few steps forward and wrapped Arizona into a hug.

Arizona gratefully accepted it, melting against her mom's warm body.

A few seconds later, Barbara pulled away and carefully inspected her daughter's face. "You look pale." She touched her forehead, feeling for a fever. "No fever…" she noted. "What's wrong?"

Arizona shrugged dismissively. "I'm fine. I just wanted to come see you."

"Did you eat?" Barbara worried. "I could whip you up some eggs." She nodded toward the backyard chicken coop. "We found three under Loretta this morning!"

Arizona laughed a little. "I'm not hungry, Mom. Like I said, I just wanted to come see you."

Barbara tucked a strand of hair behind Arizona's ear, still watching her carefully. She knew how much Arizona was like Daniel—they were both so guarded, so stoic, so hesitant to ever ask for help. "You know we're here for you."

Arizona nodded. "I know."

"If you need or want to talk," Barbara continued, "we're here to listen. You can tell us anything."

Arizona wrapped her arms around her mom once more. "I know."

* * *

That afternoon, Callie went back to the hospital to see her father while Lucia drove home to shower and try to sleep in a real bed for a little while.

"Hey," Callie smiled as she walked into the room. "How are you feeling today?"

"Sore," Carlos gruffed. "But fine. I don't always need someone to stay with me, mija. You can go if you have things to do."

"I don't have anything to do," Callie admitted. "And, even if I did, I'd rather be here with you."

Carlos reached for her hand, assuring her, "I'll be able to go home sometime in the next few days. Then, things will be more normal."

"Then, Mom and I can put you on that low-fat vegetarian diet your doctors recommended," Callie reminded him.

Carlos rolled his eyes. "What's the point of living if I can't eat anything?"

Callie chuckled. "You can eat anything you want, as long as it's healthy."

Carlos frowned, then changed the subject. "So, it's been years since you've visited home. Is there anyone you want to catch up with while you're here?"

Callie shook her head. "Not really, no."

"What about Arizona?" Carlos suggested, perking up. "You were like sisters when you were younger! She bought that orchard out on Creek Road a few years ago, you know. I see her selling peaches at the farmers' market, sometimes. She's such a sweet girl."

Callie nodded stiffly. "She is."

"What ever happened between you two?" Carlos asked.

Callie felt the color fade from her face. "What…do you mean?"

But, to her relief, Carlos didn't seem suspicious—only curious. "You didn't keep up after high school," he clarified. "Did you just grow apart?"

"Yeah," Callie lied. "We just grew apart. Nothing more."

* * *

That night, though, Callie was reminded of how much more than "nothing" had created the chasm between them. It hadn't been nothing, what had happened. It had been _everything_. Which, of course, she had already known. But, that night, she had a dream, and it reminded her of how big this thing really had been. In the dream, it felt so real—as if it were happening right then, in that moment, for the first time, all over again.

In the dream, they were eighteen-years-old again, sneaking a bottle of her father's rum out to the orchard on her final night home before leaving for college in California.

_Callie felt her whole body thrum. It was as if bubbles were spreading through her veins. "I think I'm drunk," she decided. "I feel the way a hummingbird looks when it's hovering above a lavender bush. Is that what being drunk feels like?"_

"_How should I know?" Arizona laughed. "Neither of us have ever had a drink before tonight. I feel it, too, though. Kind of…bubbly." She stood up, strode over to a tree, and picked them each a peach._

_Callie watched as she brushed off the peaches' fifth with her thumb before tossing one to her. She watched as Arizona sat beside her, grazing the other peach's fuzz with her lips._

_All around them was the saccharine scent of fallen fruit. The pulse of cricketcall. The grass swaying in the August breeze. _

_As Callie ate, Arizona stared at her face, all her inhibitions falling away like sand. She reached out, brushing away some peach juice that was about to drip down a tan chin._

_Callie looked up at her, suddenly stilling mid-chew._

"_You, um, were dripping," Arizona explained, her cheeks flushing red._

"_Oh," Callie smiled, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. "Thanks."_

_A few minutes later, Callie was leaned back against a tree with Arizona's head resting on her lap, their mouths still sticky. She ribboned a stray blonde curl around her fingers. "I think we did pretty well this summer, honestly."_

_Arizona looked up, repositioning herself on Callie's thighs. "With our summer list? I know. We got summer jobs at the diner, tried our first cigarettes, bought our first lottery ticket-"_

"_And last," Callie laughed._

"_And last," Arizona agreed. "And now, we're getting drunk for the first time." She sat up and took another swig of rum before offering it to Callie, who made a face as she gulped it back. _

_Recapping the bottle, Callie sighed. "I wish you were coming with me to college. We could've been roommates." _

_Arizona scoffed. "Callie, there's no way I would've gotten into Stanford. My parents wouldn't be able to afford it, anyway."_

"_We could probably help," Callie offered._

_Arizona rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "No way. I've never liked school. Why would I willingly pay to endure more of it?"_

_Callie frowned. "I guess that's a good point."_

_Arizona shrugged. "You'll come visit me all the time, anyway. And maybe I can visit you. Oh! And we can write each other letters, the way people used to."_

"_That _would_ be cute," Callie conceded. "I'm just nervous. We've never, like, not been together before."_

"_You're ready," Arizona insisted, playfully flipping chestnut hair. "Especially now that we've gotten all our 'firsts' taken care of."_

_Callie smiled at the jokey gesture, her eyes perusing Arizona's face. Under the light of the moon, her skin looked alyssum-white, her shoulders almost glowing. _

_Arizona grinned at her, and Callie felt the strange urge to dip her tongue into her dimple. She bit her lip, her finger coming up to trace Arizona's knee, drawing little circles on her bare skin. "You know," she began, her voice lowering, "there's one 'first' neither of us have done."_

_Arizona's head snapped up. "_What?_" Instantly, she knew what 'first' Callie was talking about. The big 'first.' The ultimate 'first.'_

"_Well, we haven't!" Callie insisted. "And I don't really want to go off to California a virgin."_

_Arizona tried to chuckle, sobering up at the implication and mere possibility of something happening between them—something she'd wanted so badly, for so long. "You want us to go find you a guy to hook up with?" she offered. "Anyone would jump at the chance to be with you, trust me."_

_Callie shook her head. "I don't want it to be with a stranger, the first time. It should be with someone you actually trust, right?"_

_Arizona gulped. "Right."_

"_And I…I trust you more than anyone." Instinctively, Callie licked her lips._

"_Callie…" Arizona felt her breath catch in her throat. And, then, her heart was machine-gunning in her chest, and she couldn't hear anything else. Just that pounding in her ears._

_Callie continued to draw patterns on Arizona's leg, slowly edging toward her thigh. She met cloudy baby blues, her own eyes earnest and open-wide. "You don't want to?"_

"_I…" How could Arizona say it, what she wanted to say? The truth: _I've loved you for so long.

_Callie nudged her shoulder. "Come on. I know we're just friends, but we love each other, right?"_

_Arizona nodded._

"_So," Callie raised an eyebrow suggestively, "do you want to?" _

"_Y-yes," Arizona shuddered out, deciding to be honest. What did she have to lose except everything? "Let's do it."_

_On impulse, they began to lean toward each other, their lips hovering a hair's breadth apart. Finally, Arizona closed the distance, allowing their lips to brush. Callie hummed at the syrup-sweet taste of those lips, the warmth of Arizona's mouth—and the sound made Arizona shiver, her hand coming up to cup Callie's cheek._

_As Arizona pressed closer, their breasts brushing, Callie felt her body begin to buzz, and—this time—she knew it wasn't because of the rum. She dropped her hands to Arizona's lithe waist, pulling her closer, their bodies becoming a swell of heat, their breaths a hurricane…_

Callie woke up out of breath, sweating. Full of want. The want had always been there, she knew. It had never left. And now—having seen Arizona again—it felt stronger than ever.


	2. Chapter 2

Arizona tossed a basket of peaches into her truck, a _Get well soon!_ card tucked between the fruit. She got into the driver's seat, rolled down the windows, and turned up the radio. Driving to Callie's old house was like muscle memory. She didn't even have to think as she drove—she knew every turn by heart.

And, when she got there—to the giant Victorian with a wraparound porch and manicured yard—she felt herself chicken out. She had planned to knock on the door and deliver the peaches in person, but…what if Callie was there? She couldn't see her again. She couldn't bear it.

She walked past the snapdragons and milkweed and hyacinths and up the stairs to the porch, leaving the basket by the door. For a second, her finger hovered over the doorbell as she attempted to locate her courage, but she couldn't bring herself to make her presence known, even though she and Carlos had gotten friendly over the years. Since she'd bought the orchard, he'd been a loyal customer, often stopping by her booth at the farmers' market and buying a handful of Majestics every time.

Instead of staying and visiting with him that day, though, she opted to go home, grateful for the wind blowing through her hair as she tore down the highway—one of life's simpler pleasures. Ever since childhood, she'd always loved that sensation, often sticking her head out the window like a golden retriever while her mother laughed and laughed. She also loved how, along this road, there was never any traffic or tourists, that the town was a place you go through only because it's on your way to somewhere else—anywhere else. Still, for her, it was home, and she loved it there.

After ditching her truck in the driveway, she strode through the orchard, needing to move. Ultimately, she found herself a few acres away from the house itself, at the lake at the edge of her property. It soothed her: the still water, its mulchy scent, the quaking ducks who had taken residence there. She lowered herself down onto one of the large rocks that bordered the dock, looking around her for stones to skip—something she and Timothy always used to do as kids whenever they found a body of water.

* * *

"Calliope!" Carlos called from upstairs, demanding that his daughter come.

Callie rushed into the room, her hair only half-brushed. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

From his bed, Carlos set down another peach pit onto the growing pile on his bedside table. "Will you find me a stamp and mail this?" he requested. "I just wrote Arizona a thank-you card for bringing me these peaches. She knows I love Majestics."

Callie sighed, taking the card from him. "Sure."

"Did you try one?" Carlos asked. "You'll love them, mija. She has the best peaches in the county—maybe nationwide." He handed her one, and Callie thumbed it gingerly, thinking about how Arizona's hand had touched the very same fuzz earlier that day.

Set it back down, careful not to bruise it. "I'm, um, going to go out for a bit," she decided. "Mom's downstairs if you need anything, okay?"

* * *

Half an hour later, Callie knocked on the door to Arizona's house and awaited a response. _Arizona has to be around,_ Callie thought—at least somewhere on the property—because her truck was there. _She could just be ignoring me. _But the curtains were shut tight, so Arizona couldn't have any idea that she was there unless she opened the door.

Feeling some sort of compulsion to see her, Callie made her way through the peach grove in search of Arizona. There were trees as far as the eye could see but no sign of her. Callie made it all the way down the knoll, passing an abandoned barn, overgrown tallgrass, and then catching sight of open water. Curious, she moved toward it until she saw that it was a small lake. And there was Arizona, sitting on a rock, skipping stones into the water.

Callie stopped for a moment, just watching her, overcome with sudden tenderness. Then, automatically, she glided toward her. "Arizona."

Arizona's head shot up, and she turned her head to face Callie.

Callie stilled at the sight of her looking back, her face still open, not yet putting up her walls. The late afternoon light had scattered itself across the water and illuminated Arizona's face. Her eyes looked impossibly blue, her hair an inhuman gold.

Arizona's eyes narrowed. "You're back."

Callie nodded, stepping forward to hand Arizona the thank-you card. "I wanted to give you this. It's…from my dad. For the peaches."

"You could have mailed it," Arizona countered, her voice flat.

"I know," Callie conceded, sitting down on the rock, careful to remain a few feet away from Arizona. "That's what my dad said to do, but…I-I wanted to see you."

At that, Arizona looked back out at the water, averting her eyes.

Seeing Arizona turn away, Callie forced a laugh. "I guess I'm alone in that." Her eyes remained trained on the back of Arizona's head. "Do you think we should…talk about it? It might help."

Finally, Arizona turned to face her, her expression hard. "Help whom?"

"Both of us," Callie shrugged, though she looked unsure. "I don't know. We keep trying to not be awkward, but…it's still awkward."

Arizona laughed dryly. Callie was right about that.

Callie waited for another moment for Arizona to say something, then risked. "Could you at least look at me?"

Arizona still refused to turn around. "I can't." She sighed. "It hurts to look at you." Tears stung her eyes.

Callie exhaled a tremulous breath. "You, too," she admitted. "Look, I know you're mad, b-"

Arizona shook her head. "I'm not mad."

Callie set her palms down against the sunbaked rock, hoping it would give her some sort of strength. "What are you, then?"

"I don't know. Heartbroken."

At that—the simple truth of it, the honesty—Callie felt her heart ache for Arizona. _How rare it is for someone to say exactly what they mean_. Especially Arizona. Callie knew that she'd always been taught to _soldier on_, to be strong, and, yet, here she was, admitting to weakness. As if admitting to love was weakness. Her stomach churned. "Oh."

Finally, Arizona risked a look at her, hoping her eyes weren't rimmed in red. "We were best friends, Callie. One day, everything was fine, and then, the next, you disappeared. You were just gone."

Callie gulped. _Okay, so—apparently—we're talking about it._ "I was scared."

"You said that," Arizona spat—or at least tried to. "And you know, I thought you suggested doing…_it_ that night just because you were drunk and horny and knew I was gay and would say yes and help you get it over with."

"That's not why," Callie argued before Arizona could continue. "I never would have left the way I did if that was all there was to it. If it were that simple, I would've called. I would've written. Nothing would have changed between us."

Arizona nodded. "I know. You might not have been conscious of it then, but you had feelings for me, too—and not just because I was there and you wanted to be with someone—anyone. You wanted _me_."

Callie felt her heart speed up. "Yes," she breathed. "I didn't know until it happened, but yes. I wanted you." It had been the rum that had brought her feelings to light, that had made her disinhibited. She brought her hands to her lap and watched how they fidgeted in her anxiety. Her confession came out in a rush: "You touched me and I came alive."

Arizona felt her breath catch in her throat. That's how it had been for her, too. Exactly that. Under Callie's hands, she'd come alive.

"I had never felt that way with anyone," Callie continued. Silently, she added, _And I haven't since._

Arizona looked back out at the water, skipping another rounded stone. She watched as the ripples spread, the way the lily pads and lotuses were becoming shaded by trees as the sun shifted lower in the sky. "I never thought things would end the way they did. I mean, it wasn't awkward after, when we said goodbye. I'd thought it was a good night."

Again, Callie's eyes fixed on the back of her head. "It was a good night. Best night I ever had." She hucked a fist-sized rock into the water, pleased by the splash it made. She watched the ripples move further and further out and then fade completely.

With Callie distracted, Arizona took the opportunity to look at her. In the heat, her hair was matted to her face, and she had a few light freckles spattered across her nose. Blue eyes moved over her full lips, her soft jawline, the scar she still had on her neck from Jesse Rogers running with scissors in the first grade. "You shouldn't have disappeared," she breathed. "I was scared, too. Of my feelings for you. Of everything." She laughed a little. "It's scary—life."

Callie turned back and smiled. "I know. Even scarier at eighteen, I think."

"In some ways," Arizona accepted. "I guess we were just kids. We didn't know what love was."

"We knew," Callie argued. "Didn't we? Didn't you?"

Arizona's fingers worried the tattered edge of her t-shirt. "What I knew was that I could've looked at you forever." She blushed a little, risking a look back at Callie. "But we were best friends. I wasn't going to, you know, ever say or _do_ anything about it." She paused. "We would still be friends if that night hadn't happened."

"We could still be friends now," Callie suggested.

Arizona fixed Callie with a look.

"Or not," Callie realized, seeing Arizona's expression. "I guess, if I'm being honest, I don't know if I could be your friend, even if I tried. Not now."

Arizona's eyes widened. _Is Callie suggesting…_

Suddenly, Callie nodded toward the rowboat to the left of them, on the edge of the lake. "You ever go out on that?"

"The boat?" Arizona asked, a little jarred by the sudden change in topic. She shrugged. "Sometimes."

Callie's eyes caressed her face, her smile uneasy. "You think I could go out with you sometime?"

* * *

The following week, Callie decided, "Okay, I'm off to the farmers' market. Do either of you need anything?"

"I could use a nice filet mignon," Carlos gruffed. He missed meat.

Affectionately, Callie rolled her eyes at him. "Besides that." She turned to face Lucia. "Mom? Any fruits or veggies?"

"Just get anything that looks good, mi amor," Lucia suggested, not bothering to look up from her book.

"Oh, I know what I want," Carlos decided. "More peaches."

Callie's mouth went dry at the mere prospect of seeing Arizona again. "What? You ate the basketful already?"

He shrugged. "It'll give you an excuse to catch up with Arizona. I'm sure she'd love to see you."

"I'm not so sure about that," Callie muttered under her breath. Sure, since their talk, things were better, maybe—or they at least _felt_ better, to her. But, still, things were awkward. Inevitably.

"Give it a shot," Carlos urged. "You have nothing to lose."

_Right_.

* * *

As Arizona did her rounds, selling pallets of peaches to local stores and bakeries and chatting with acquaintances and customers, she found herself looking for Callie. It was silly, she knew. Why would Callie be at the farmers' market? _Well, to buy produce_, she reminded herself. _But—more importantly—why would I even want her here? _Callie had broken her heart. And she still hadn't recovered completely.

Sure, she'd had dozens of hookups, flings, and relationships since, but…Callie had been her first love. And, after all, didn't everyone always say that your first love's the one you never completely get over?

If the way her stomach had flip-flopped when she'd seen Callie a few days before was any indication, Arizona was one-hundred percent most definitely _not_ over Callie. Even twelve years later.

A little after 10a.m., there was a lull in customer traffic, and Arizona picked up a peach and took a bite. She was bored and tired and quite possibly stress-eating, but, still, she relished in its sweetness as she people-watched everyone around her.

* * *

As Callie walked down the blocked-off road, filled with farmers and local consumers, she tried to build up the nerve to stop by Arizona's booth. After her fifth lap around the place, covertly checking out the peach table, she eventually hid behind another farmer's Eazy-Up, peeking around the corner to watch her from a distance. Arizona looked totally in her element, talking to neighbors and friends, a faded baseball cap shielding her face from the sun.

Then, suddenly, Callie felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped in surprise. She slapped her hand over her heart when she saw who it was. "Oh! Dr. Webber," she breathed. "Good to see you, sir."

"Good to see you!" Webber countered, his voice cheerful. "I never again thought this town would see Callie Torres. Onto bigger and better things in California—that's what your parents always say."

Callie chuckled politely. "Well, I don't know about that…"

"I heard about your father's surgery," Webber lamented. "Is he doing okay? I was thinking about stopping by for a visit."

Callie smiled. "He'd love that. So, what about you? Are you still the high school principal?"

Webber shook his head. "I finally retired last year. Retirement's a little boring than what I'm used to, but it's good." He turned his attention back to the present. "Now, what are you doing hiding behind this tent? _Spying_, perhaps?"

"Ha!" Callie laughed—too loudly—at how spot-on Webber had been, even though he'd been joking. Panicked, she looked around, realizing how loud her little outburst had been. And, _yup_, there Arizona was, across the road, staring at them. _Damn it._ "I, uh, Dr. Webber, I actually need to go. But you should definitely come by the house soon."

Without a look back—her eyes fixed solely on Arizona's face—Callie wove through the crowd until she reached her table. She offered a guilty smile. "Hi."

Arizona raised an eyebrow at her, half-teasing and half-judgmental. "I see you're catching up with old friends."

Callie rolled her eyes toward their former principal. "He and my dad are friends, okay?" she defended. "He just wanted to hear about how he's been doing."

Arizona's eyes softened, and she suddenly turned serious. "How is he doing?"

Callie offered her a small smile, flattered that she cared. "He's okay. He misses steak and fried food. He did, however, instruct me to buy some peaches from you."

Arizona chuckled. "He's a loyal customer." Gingerly, she placed six peaches into a small paper bag. "Here. He likes the Majestics best."

Callie handed her a ten, but Arizona waved it off. "Free of charge. These are more 'get-well-soon' peaches. He can have all he wants."

"Thanks," Callie smiled. "And, oh! Here." She set something down on the table.

Arizona looked down at it, furrowing her brows. "What's this?"

Callie shrugged, aiming a hopeful expression her way. "A peace offering?" She paused, then explained further: "I was going through my old records last night and remembered how much you used to love this one." She laughed a little. "I still can't listen to Billie Holiday without thinking of you." That earned Callie a smile and, this time, it reached blue eyes.

"I do love her," Arizona admitted. "So, thank you. For thinking of me."

Callie nodded toward the chair beside Arizona's, risking, "Can I sit with you?"

Anddd…there was Arizona's heart again, beating in her ears. How could she act like a normal person with Callie's big chocolate eyes fixed on her face like that, her irises rimmed with an impossibly darker brown. "Sure." Her voice came out as a whisper.

For the next hour, Callie helped Arizona give out peaches and collect cash, and she had to admit that it was kind of fun to interact with the local customers. Most of them remembered her, even despite how many years had passed. That was the nice thing about growing up in a small town—something Callie had forgotten. Everyone knew each other there. Life moved slower and people were friendlier than they were back in San Francisco, where everyone was always in a hurry, always on their way to somewhere else. "This is fun."

Arizona smiled. "I think so, too."

* * *

When the farmers' market ended, Callie helped Arizona pack everything back into her truck, wanting to stay with her a little longer.

As Arizona got into the driver's seat, she noticed that Callie was still lingering. She was just standing there awkwardly, a few feet from the truck, shifting her weight from one foot to the other again and again. Finally, Arizona sighed, taking pity on her. "Get in."

Callie's eyes widened. "Are you sure? I don't want to-"

Arizona slammed her own door shut. She wasn't sure about anything except that she enjoyed Callie's company, no matter how much she wished she didn't. She made a point to quirk up her lips, wanting to reassure her. "I'm sure. Get in."

When they got to Arizona's, they immediately began walking, rather than going into the house. Above them, the sky was cloudless, so blue it looked like it couldn't possibly be real. As always, the air smelled vaguely of fallen fruit, but there were also hints of jasmine, golden wheat, and mustard seed—scents brought by the summer breeze.

They walked for about fifteen minutes and then, finally, Arizona stopped at their spot. _Their spot_—the shaded area under older peach trees where they'd done what they'd done before everything went sour. They recognized it, even now.

While Callie sat down easily, Arizona had to grab the trunk of a tree as she worked to lower herself to the ground. She fell the last foot, landing with a soft _Oof_. Her eyes shot up to Callie's face to see if she'd noticed, and she was relieved to see she hadn't.

Callie looked around her at the dozens of trees, the sound of crickets chirping and cicadas screaming. "I love it here."

"Me, too."

"We used to come here so often," Callie recalled. "Remember when old Mr. Johnson sicced his hounds on us?"

"Oh, god," Arizona tipped her head back, exasperated by the mere memory. "That was terrifying. I've never run so fast in my life."

Callie chuckled. "And that's saying something, considering the fact that you were a track and cross-country star."

Arizona's cheeks reddened. "I don't know about _star_. And…that was a long time ago."

"Do you still run half-marathons?" Callie asked. "I'm still traumatized from the time you tried to get me to join you."

Arizona laughed. "You didn't even make it three miles!"

Callie grinned back and—for a minute—they just sat there, looking and looking at each other, the awkwardness momentarily falling away.

Finally, Arizona averted her eyes, shaking her head. "This is so weird."

Callie's eyebrows knit together. "What is?"

"_This_," Arizona clarified, gesturing between them. "I don't know what we're doing."

Callie bit her lip. "I don't know, either. And I'm trying not to analyze anything too much. All I know is that it feels right, being with you, like this. Am I allowed to say that?"

"Yes."

Callie's lips lifted into a smile, her eyes perusing creamy skin that looked glossy in the heat and humidity.

Suddenly, Arizona made a decision. "Can I show you something?"

Callie nodded, and they stood up and began walking side-by-side toward this mysterious 'something.' As they walked, Callie felt Arizona's hand brush against hers, ever so briefly—they were that close—and her stomach immediately flip-flopped.

Arizona led them threw the orchard, past the lake, into the fields. Their clothes clung to them as they climbed the hillside, the scent of mustard flowers invading their nostrils. In the trees that stood over them, they heard an occasional chirping bird, singing of summer.

"Where are you taking me?" Callie asked.

Arizona just shrugged coyly. "You'll see."

Eventually, they made it to an ancient-looking water tower that had rusted over time. Arizona stood at the foot of the ladder.

Callie's eyes bulged. "We're going up _there_?"

Arizona nodded, expertly beginning to climb without a look back. "Come on."

Hesitantly, Callie followed, her steps less sure.

At the top, Arizona hopped over the little fence and walked over the flat surface, looking out at the landscape. "Don't look down," she warned Callie.

And, of course, that's immediately what Callie did. She wasn't even close to the top yet, and already she felt like she could see for miles. Below her, she saw the orchard, the lake, the house, and fields and fields of wheat and corn and flowers. She saw the highway, a lone tractor inching down it. She forced herself to fight her fear and kept climbing, following Arizona's path to the top.

At the top, she breathed out a sigh of relief when she felt even ground under her feet. She walked toward Arizona, taking in the view. "Wow," she breathed. She could see everything, from the forest to the downtown to her parents' house, a mile away.

Arizona turned to her, a small smile grazing her lips. "You like it?"

Callie just nodded, stunned into silence. In the evening light, the sun dyed everything ochre, and the hues seemed almost unreal, almost too beautiful to bear.

As Callie looked at the view Arizona had come to memorize in complete wonder, Arizona's eyes remained on her face, watching her take it all in. A gust of wind blew, and Callie's hair blew back, giving Arizona a whiff of her shampoo. She shut her eyes, breathing it in. Then, without thinking, she leaned closer, wanting to take more of Callie into her lungs.

Without warning, Callie took a step back, ramming right into her. "Whoa." Callie reached for Arizona's bare shoulder to steady them. "I-" As she felt smooth ivory skin under her hand, the words caught in her throat. "Sorry." She dropped her hand, forcing her eyes to stray from a gorgeous freckled arm back to the landscape that spread all around them. "It's incredible up here."

Trying to forget the feeling of Callie's skin on hers, Arizona smiled. "I know. I love to come here for the sunset. Sunrise, too. You can see everything."

"Seriously," Callie agreed, her eyes roaming over the view. She shook her head. "It's crazy how this was our world, for so long. I mean, it's such a small town, but we didn't really go anywhere else, even though there are big cities just a few hours away."

"Well, you went to the Mediterranean and Bahamas during the summers," Arizona reminded her. "The only times I've left the country were to go to war, and I've rarely left this town. I was always more of a homebody than you."

"I guess that's true," Callie hummed. "I forgot how special it is here, though. Until now."

Together, they sat down as the sun continued to set, the world around them slowly dissolving in the dusk. Arizona lay back, looking up at the lightning bugs occasionally flashing above her head.

Callie followed suit, and—as they lay there—she couldn't help but gaze at Arizona, wanting to press her lips to the freckle on her philtrum, just above her top lip.

Arizona turned to face her, catching Callie staring. Her stomach flipped as Callie hurried to avert her eyes. "You were looking at me," she accused, her voice amused.

Callie risked a peek back at her. "How did you know I was looking unless you were looking at me?" she countered.

Arizona tried not to smile and failed. "I was just thinking."

Callie set down her elbow, turning on her side and holding her face in her hand, and Arizona immediately mirrored her position so that they faced each other. "What were you thinking about?"

"You," Arizona admitted. She rolled her eyes at herself, a little embarrassed. "God. I promised myself that, if I ever saw you again, I'd just ignore you. And now look at me."

Callie's eyes explored her face, melting at those rosy cheeks and big blue eyes. "Oh, I am."

Arizona blushed. "That's not what I meant."

Callie chuckled, then exhaled a long breath. "You know, after that night, I was so freaked out by how much I wanted you. First, because I'd never felt that way about anyone, and second because you were a girl."

Arizona nodded. "I know."

"But I'm not anymore," Callie vowed. "We've both had time to grow up, and change, and now I'm not scared of what I feel for you."

Arizona felt her breath shudder out. She focused on Callie's eyelashes, thick and charcoal-black. The stars were starting to come out, bright and visible in the darkened town. Above, the moon smiled down on them, the light making Callie's skin glow like opal. Looking at Callie, she couldn't believe that she was making herself so vulnerable. Again. But, with Callie, there never seemed to be any other way. Callie had always managed to break down her walls, without even really trying. _And tonight's no exception_, Arizona thought. "You still…feel it?" she risked. "What you felt before, on that final night?"

Callie nodded solemnly, her voice barely audible. "That and more."

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Dude, I can't believe she's back after all this time," Alex offered as he helped Arizona unload pallets of peaches from her truck. "Are you happy about it?"

Arizona sighed, pulling herself up to sit in the truck bed. "I don't know."

"How can you not be happy?" he countered in disbelief. "It's only literally everything you've ever wanted."

Arizona rolled her eyes—partly at him, and partly at herself. Over the years, Alex had become her closest confidant. While much of their high school class had gone off to college in bigger cities, they had both stayed right there in their small town—Arizona because she hadn't known what she wanted to do next, and Alex out of necessity: he'd felt that he needed to care for his younger siblings and to protect them from their abusive alcoholic father. And he'd been a devoted caregiver.

They were a strange pair: the former high school wrestling star and the somewhat stereotypical lesbian softballer and former army corporal. Still, they had some things in common. They shared the same stoicism, they had hooked up with half of the same women, and they loved each other—even if they didn't say it out loud. Alex had been there for Arizona when she lost her leg and was kept up at night by nightmares of the war, and Arizona had been there for Alex when, protecting his younger brother, he'd beat up his father so badly that he'd had to spend the night in the county jail.

Arizona wiped the sweat from her brow. "I am happy to see her," she decided. "But…she unhinges me."

Alex bit into a peach, hoping the fruit might help cool him off under the midday sun. "Does she still like you, too?"

Arizona glared at him. "Who said I like her?"

Alex laughed. "Come on, Robbins. I know you. You've been pining after her for years."

"I have not," Arizona lied. Okay, so maybe she had. Just a little.

"Yes, you have!" Alex argued, not letting Arizona delude herself. "You've never had a long-term relationship. Hookups and flings, yes, but nothing with real substance. And, for a chick, that's weird. So haven't you ever thought about why?"

"No," Arizona insisted, petulant now. "And, for the record, you haven't really had any serious relationships, either."

"I had Izzie," Alex reminded her, suddenly frowning.

Arizona bit her tongue, remembering his blonde ex-girlfriend who'd lived in one of the trailer-parks the next town over. Izzie had assumed the worst about Alex and had left without even saying goodbye. Alex had really loved her. And, naturally, she was still a sore subject. "Oh, yeah. Sorry."

Finishing his peach, Alex tossed the pit behind him, not caring where it fell. "So are you going to make a move?"

Arizona shrugged, tentatively sharing, "I think she already kind of did."

Alex's eyes bugged out. "Shut up."

Wanting to dampen her own hope, Arizona continued, "It doesn't matter how physically attracted we are to each other, though. We don't know each other. She doesn't know about my leg or PTSD or how boring my life is compared to hers in California. Once she finds out, she'll run for the hills."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Don't be an idiot." _Arizona doesn't know how good she is._

"I'm just saying."

"She liked you so much that she avoided you for twelve years," Alex reminded her.

Arizona let out a humorless laugh. "Not a great omen, is it? That has to be the worst seduction strategy known to man."

Alex shrugged helplessly. "Obviously it's not a productive or healthy way to show love. But, to be so terrified to see you for all this time, she must've had big feelings for you."

"I had big feelings for her," Arizona whispered.

"You still do."

Arizona nodded, surrendering, "I still do. Goddamnit."

With a laugh, Alex wrapped his arm around her like a protective big brother, and Arizona rested her head on his shoulder. "Even if true love doesn't happen…" he began. "You've at least got to hook up with her again."

Abruptly, Arizona pulled away to look at his face. "What? Why?"

"She's hot. And if you don't do her, then I will."

At that, Arizona elbowed him. Hard.

Instinctually, Alex flinched and let out a little yelp. "Ow!" He rubbed his chest. "Dude! I think you just gave me a bruise."

Arizona smiled. _Good_.

* * *

The next morning, Arizona was awoken by the sound of her ringing cell phone. Groggily, she reached for it, putting it up to her ear without looking to see who was calling. "Hello?"

"Hey, darlin'," came Barbara's voice on the other end of the line. "How are you doing, sweetheart?"

"Fine," Arizona groused. "I was sleeping."

"Oh," Barbara regretted. "I didn't mean to wake you. It's just that...would you mind stopping by to see your father and me? We want to talk to you about something."

Arizona sat up with a start. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"We're fine," Barbara assured her. "Just come by as soon as you're dressed, okay?"

* * *

Arizona felt ready to throw up—that's how bad her stomachache was. Her parents were sitting side-by-side on their old floral couch, a big pot of tea and three steaming cups waiting on the coffee table.

Immediately—as she sat down in the chair facing them—Arizona took this setup as a bad sign. The first time her parents had created this little set-up had been when the family Labrador died. Then, they'd sat here again when they broke the news that Timothy had been killed-in-action. Then a third time when they'd held an intervention with her after she'd come back from the war, requesting that she seek help for her PTSD. The way her mother had cried as she'd begged her to take better care of herself…the memory still haunted Arizona.

"Mom...?" she hazarded. "What's going on?"

Wanting to ease the tension, Barbara pushed a flowered teacup toward Arizona. "Have a sip of tea, darlin'. It's mint—your favorite."

Obediently, Arizona took a sip and then set the cup back down onto the table. "Dad? What's happening?"

"It's nothing bad, Arizona," Daniel vowed. "Or, well, it might be. Your mother and I just want to give you some information. And we want to make sure you're all right."

"Okay..."

"Sweetheart, I was on my walk this morning, and I encountered something that...might upset you," Barbara began, her voice intolerably gentle. During difficult times, she referred back to her training as a counselor, and Arizona resented being treated like a patient.

Arizona waited, attempting to remain even-tempered. Even now, her parents sometimes treated her like a child, and she hated it.

"And we thought it best to tell you before you find out about this thing in another way," Barbara continued. "But, if it would help for us to practice our deep breathing before I tell you-"

Arizona turned to her father with a huff. "Will you just tell me? Did someone die? Are you dying?"

"No, nothing like that," Daniel quickly reassured her. He shared a look with his wife and then turned back to Arizona. "Your mother ran into Callie Torres this morning."

"Oh," Arizona breathed, exhaling a sigh of relief. She laughed a little. "That's all you wanted to tell me?"

Barbara looked at her in confusion. "You already knew?"

Arizona nodded. "I've seen her—a few times, actually. Her dad had a heart attack, so she's back for the summer."

"You've...seen her?" Barbara processed. She reached across the table for Arizona. "Oh, darlin'. Are you okay?"

Arizona's eyebrows furrowed. "What? I'm fine."

Daniel sighed, his hand coming up to the small of his wife's back. "I told you she was fine, Barb." He turned to Arizona. "Your mother—mistakenly, obviously—believed seeing Callie again would unhinge you or something. She assumed something happened between you two when Callie left for college."

"Something _did_ happen, Daniel," Barbara insisted. To Arizona: "You never said anything, but I know something must have gone wrong for you two to stop talking just like that!"

Arizona looked down.

Barbara's voice softened. "How did she betray you, sweetheart? Did she lie to you about something? Did she…" She gasped. "Did she call you a homophobic slur?"

"No! _No_." Arizona shook her head. "Nothing like that."

"But something did happen?" Barbara pressed. She swatted Daniel on the arm. "I told you, Daniel. I know her. And this is why she was so upset on that morning she gave us a surprise visit, remember?" She looked back at Arizona. "What happened?"

Arizona pursed her lips, not wanting to say. _Talk about awkward_.

Daniel gave her a secret little smile. "You know she's not going to stop asking until you tell her."

"It's true," Barbara agreed. "But, if you don't want to tell me, I suppose I could ask Callie…"

Arizona put her face in her hands, mortified by the mere thought. "Mom. Please d-" She forced herself to face her parents again, and she felt how hot her face was already. "Fine. That last night before she left, we, um…we hooked up."

Barbara and Daniel's eyes bulged.

"But it's fine," Arizona vowed. "It was a long time ago, and it's fine. So we really, really never need to talk about it again."

"She was the one who stopped talking to you?" Barbara inquired, leaning forward.

Hesitantly, Arizona nodded. "Yes."

"That girl wanted you, too," Barbara realized.

"Barb…" Daniel warned, knowing how much his wife liked to meddle.

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "Does she still?"

* * *

"So, what's it like being in your hometown?" Addison, Callie's former roommate and current close friend, asked over the phone. "Is it everything you always dreaded it would be?"

Callie chuckled as she sat down on an uninhabited park bench—she hadn't wanted her father to hear her talking to one of her closest California friends. "Yes. No." She sighed. "Arizona and I are…talking again."

"WHAT?" Addison squealed. "Callie! That's huge! Remember when we first met, when we were starting at Stanford? You were a _mess_ over her."

"I know," Callie lamented, remembering how awful she had felt when she and Arizona had first stopped talking. Poor Addison'd had to hear about it for months. Though, in retrospect, Callie knew she was lucky to have been assigned to a dorm with the redheaded East Coaster. They'd been close friends from the start. And Addison—who came from a more sophisticated background and a bigger city—easily accepted and embraced the fact that Callie had discovered she liked girls.

"So does she know that you're gay—or at least gay_ish_?" Addison pressed. "Does she know that you've literally never gotten over her?"

Callie frowned. "Shut up."

…Which only proved that what Addison had said was true: Callie had never gotten over her. Addison cackled, pleased to have been proven right. "_Well_? Does she know?"

Callie pursed her lips. "I…hinted at it. Who knows where we'll go from here, though. It's all so weird. I mean, we knew each other better than ourselves, once. And now so much time has passed…it's like she's just a stranger who knows all my secrets."

"Not all of them," Addison argued.

"No, not all of them," Callie conceded. "But a whole child- and teenagerhood's worth. She just knows my heart, you know? Cliché as it sounds, she knows me heart and soul."

"And that's what matters," Addison agreed. "Someone who knows you and loves you for your heart. And it'll be good to catch up. Aren't you curious about what you've missed over the course of the last twelve years?"

Callie started picking at the bench's worn wood, wincing when she felt herself get a splinter. "She went to war."

"Whoa. That's something big to miss."

Callie stuck her thumb into her mouth, hoping to numb the pain. _Ha_, she thought. That was what she was always trying to do: numb the pain. Or, better yet, eliminate the possibility of pain. She knew that was part of why she'd disappeared so many years ago, running from what she felt for Arizona. "I know."

"Is it mutual?" Addison questioned. "You said Arizona always knew she was gay. Was she gay for you back then? Is she still?"

Callie chuckled at her friend's word-choice, and then she turned serious. "Back then she was. And I think she still could be." _I hope so_, she added silently. Once upon a time, Arizona had been her soulmate: her very best friend. And, of course, she couldn't help but want her physically—that was something she could finally accept. Just thinking back to that ivory skin, those freckled shoulders…

* * *

When Callie got home, she found her father in the backyard, sitting by the pool, reading the paper. She smiled, glad to see that he was doing better. "Hi, Daddy."

"Calliope." Carlos looked up at her and smiled. "How was your walk, mi amor?"

Callie smiled back, sitting on the lounge chair beside his. "It was good. How are you feeling today?"

"I'm good," he vowed. "Just catching up on the news. Depressing world, huh?" he mourned. "Three shootings this week."

Callie sighed. "Yeah."

"In better news," Carlos began, putting his hand on her knee, "tell me: how was seeing Arizona at the farmers' market the other day? Did you catch up?"

"Oh," Callie recalled. "Yeah, we did. It was…" She trailed off. "It was something."

"She's the best friend you ever had," Carlos mused. "You _or_ Aria. Your sister was friends with some mean girls—remember? I can't imagine Arizona ever being mean."

"Me neither," Callie admitted.

"You should invite her over," Carlos decided. He leaned toward Callie conspiratorially. "Do you know if she has a…domestic partner? She would be welcome to come, too."

Callie chuckled. "I think she's single. And sure. Maybe I'll invite her sometime."

* * *

The next morning, Callie went for a walk, classical music loud in her ears. And, before she knew it, she found herself at the edge of the orchard, without even meaning to head in that direction.

From behind her, she heard: "Do I need to get a restraining order?"

Callie whipped around, yanking her earphones out of her ears, and saw Arizona in a flannel shirt and sweats, her hair split into two braids. She bit her lip, suddenly nervous, and she started to apologize when she saw Arizona offer a teasing smile. Relieved, she smiled back.

Arizona set down her rake. "Hi." Her eyes ran down Callie's long almost-bare legs that looked impossibly tan and smooth.

Following Arizona's eyes, Callie blushed. _Why did I have to come here today, in my old ratty workout shorts?_ She cleared her throat, and Arizona's head shot up. Now _she_ was blushing.

Arizona forced herself to keep her eyes on Callie's face. She was haloed with morning light, and her hair looked almost light-brown in the sun. "What are you doing here?" And, this time, when she asked, the words didn't come out harshly—it wasn't an accusation; it was a real question.

"I was walking, and I just…found myself here." Callie rolled her eyes at herself, joking, "Maybe you _should_ get a restraining order."

Arizona laughed, and then she risked, "Do you want some company?"

Callie's eyes widened. "Really?" Her voice came out more quietly than she had intended it to.

Arizona nodded and, together, they continued down the gravel road. They kept walking and walking, passing wheat fields, the creek bed, and eucalyptuses and pines, the light clinging to their leaves. Finally, they found themselves overlooking a field.

"This is unreal," Callie commented as they stepped onto the grass. It smelled like mildew and fescue.

Arizona looked up at her. "What is?"

"All this nature," Callie clarified. "I mean, there's just so much of it. And, don't get me wrong, California has stuff, too. It's just that, there, it's not so sprawling like this unless it's a state park or something. But people really live here."

"You used to, too," Arizona reminded her.

"It feels like a lifetime ago sometimes," Callie realized. "I forgot how idyllic it is."

They sat down in the middle of the field, still wet with dew, and Arizona instantly started inspecting the clovers around her, looking for one with four leaves. She didn't always find one when she searched, but she often did. She knew they were more common than people thought—all it took was a little patience. To Callie: "Do you miss California yet?"

Callie leaned back, her hands holding her up. "Not really. It's just a whole new world here—I can't even tell you. It feels like another universe."

Arizona looked up at her with a smile. "A pretty one, though."

"Yeah," Callie agreed. "It's just so different. In San Francisco, I get to be a stranger—totally anonymous for the most part. Here, I'm never anonymous—no one is. There aren't tourists or college students or people moving here from other countries. It's just people who farm or have lived here their whole lives. There's never even the concept of anonymity."

"True," Arizona hummed. She laughed a little. "I've been the town's resident lesbian my whole life. My dad's the resident colonel. Mr. Lane's the resident corn farmer. No one exists without a clear role, and everyone knows what everyone else's role is because there's so few of us."

"I don't have a job here. What's my role?" Callie challenged.

Arizona took a second to think about it, and then she decided, "You're the resident mystery."

Callie gave her a disbelieving look. "I don't think that counts as a role."

"Sure it does," Arizona argued. "You went away to California of all places, for twelve years, and now you're back. That's the biggest source of gossip there's been in years."

Callie made a face. "I don't know about that. Gossiping about the beautiful lesbian peach farmer sounds way more interesting."

Arizona chuckled and made a face. "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or not."

Callie chuckled with her. "It was supposed to be a compliment. Forget about the gossip part. Remember that I called you beautiful. And meant it," she added.

Arizona ducked her head, hiding her blushing cheeks behind her hair. And then she kept inspecting the clovers around her. So many times, she'd found one with four leaves and wished that, by some miracle, she'd see Callie again. And, now, there Callie was, in all her perfect glory. "You're one to talk. Remember when Lincoln High decided to do _Romeo and Juliet_ one spring? As soon as you announced you were auditioning for the part of Juliet, about fifty boys decided to try for Romeo, just so they maybe would have the chance to kiss you."

"What?" Callie squawked. "I thought they just liked Shakespeare!"

Arizona laughed. "Yeah, right. What high-schooler actually likes Shakespeare?"

"I did!" Callie defended.

"I know," Arizona accepted. "But you were always meant to be an English major. In fifth grade, your favorite book was _To Kill a Mockingbird_ while the rest of us were still reading 'chapter books.'"

"What were you meant to be?" Callie asked. "I think you wanted to be an astronaut for a while, right?"

Arizona scrunched up her nose. "I'm not meant to be an astronaut. I think maybe I was meant to be a soldier, but that's done now. Now, I don't care what I do, as long as I'm happy."

"Are you happy?" Callie pressed.

Arizona nodded. "Happier than I've been in a long time, I think."

* * *

A few minutes later, Callie was lying down on the grass, sunbathing with her eyes shut, when Arizona exclaimed, "Found one!"

She altered her position, lying down beside Callie and handing her a four-leaf clover. "Here. I found this for you."

Callie's eyebrows furrowed as she processed what Arizona had given her. "Oh, a four-leaf clover! How did you find this?"

Arizona shrugged. "It just takes patience."

Callie twirled it between her forefinger and thumb. "What do I do with it?"

"You make a wish," Arizona informed her. "Like with birthday candles or shooting stars. You just shut your eyes and wish for something you want."

Callie inspected her face as she tried to hand it back. "You don't want it?"

Arizona shook her head. "Nope. My gift to you. Make a wish."

Callie shut her eyes tight, instantly thinking of something she longed for and making her wish. Covertly, she then tucked the clover into her pocket, in case losing it would render her good luck null and void.

Arizona looked over at her. "Did you make a good wish?"

Callie nodded. "I did." She noticed a cloud of gnats flying over her head and swatted at them away with her hand.

Arizona smirked. "Callie, they're tiny flies. They're not going to hurt you."

"I know," Callie frowned.

"Are you scared of bugs?"

"No," Callie pouted, her expression almost puerile. Then, matter-of-factly, she offered, "I just want bugs to respect my personal space."

Arizona laughed. "I guess that's fair."

* * *

An hour later, they were walking back to the orchard when Arizona finally worked up the courage to ask, "Do you actually, you know, like…women?"

Callie's brows flew up.

"Or was it just me?" Arizona pressed, her expression cautious. Of course, she wanted to know the answer. Badly. But she felt a little uncouth for just coming right out and asking_. It's like a sly way of asking: Do you really think I'm hot?_ she thought. _Not very ladylike. Or chivalrous,_ she added, in the name of androgyny.

Callie offered her a patient smile. "It wasn't just you. I mean…you aren't the only woman I've been with or have been attracted to. But I think it's mostly you."

Arizona fixed her with a confused look. "How?"

Callie inhaled an unsure breath, mentally preparing herself for her confession. "Sexually, I've been with both men and women, but it's never quite been like it was with you. And maybe that was just because I was drunk and it was the first time and it was, like, a sexual awakening…"

Arizona bit her bottom lip, immediately regretful. It had been more than that for her. It had been something real.

"…but I don't think that's it," Callie continued. She looked down at her their feet, moving at the exact same pace: left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. She focused on the rhythmic crack of leaves, the sound of their shoes against the gravel.

Beside her, Arizona was also tracking their feet with her eyes, amazed at the way they'd fallen into step, their movements in sync. She felt herself remembering the sound of Callie's moan, the salt of her neck, the way she'd shuddered under her…

"I know," she admitted. "It was more than all that—at least to me. I had loved you forever."

At that confession—though it was something Callie had already assumed—Callie stumbled, almost imperceptibly, and suddenly their steps were off-beat, no longer concurrent. _Love_. It was a strong feeling, and it was one that they'd always felt for one another, platonic or romantic.

They kept walking, and Callie pointed to the hillsides sparkling gold under the hot sun. "What's beyond the hills over there? Do you know?"

Arizona offered a playful look. "More forest and farms, of course."

"God," Callie laughed to herself. "There's really nothing to do around here, is there? Like literally _nothing_."

"There are a few things," Arizona argued, feeling defensive of their town.

Callie raised an eyebrow at her. "Really?"

"Really," Arizona promised. She paused, working up the courage. Then: "Are you busy tonight? I could show you a place."

At that, Callie's eyes widened.

And, resigned, Arizona offered a poignant smile. "I don't think there's any use in trying to bury my feelings for you."

Callie raised an eyebrow. "So would you show me as my ex-best-friend-turned-tour-guide? Or…as my date?"

Arizona bit her bottom lip. "The latter. If you want to."

"Do _you_ want to?" Callie asked.

Arizona laughed to herself—and at herself. She felt her stomach flip-flop as she met Callie's gorgeous brown eyes. "Yeah," she breathed. "I want you."

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading and, please, let me know what you think below! xo**


	4. Chapter 4

That evening, Arizona stood in front of her closet with a frown. She had already sifted through all of her tops, bottoms, and dresses and still couldn't find anything to wear. After all, this wasn't just a date—this was a date with the woman she'd once gone crazy for. The way she and Callie had touched each other…

She still felt the echo of Callie's hands on her skin.

And, by some miracle—or some sort of secret witchcraft—Callie had managed to get hotter over the course of the last twelve years, so Arizona really, _really_ needed to look good.

At last, she settled for a pair of nice jeans and a blue blouse, hoping it would bring out the color of her eyes. She stood in front of her clouded bathroom mirror and attempted to brush her eyelashes with mascara. It was old and clumped from disuse, and she ended up stabbing herself in the eye with the wand. Twice. _Oh, great_, she grumbled, inspecting her irritated eye—it looked all red and seep-y. _Now Callie's going to think I have pink eye. How sexy._

Finally, she spritzed her favorite perfume on her wrists and headed downstairs to sit in the kitchen until Callie arrived.

A few minutes later, Callie strode up the steps to Arizona's front porch, wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans. Her stomach was so filled with butterflies it felt ready to burst. _Just breathe, Callie_, she mumbled to herself, praying the old walls weren't thin enough that Arizona would be able to hear her.

She knocked at the front door, and Arizona jumped up from her seat, eager to answer. But, then, she made herself stop. _Don't be overeager. Play it cool_. Methodically, she made her way toward the front door, walking along a single rail of hardwood. But when she opened the door, her breath caught in her throat. Callie was heartbreakingly beautiful in hip-hugging jeans, her red blouse plunging low in the front to reveal a hint of cleavage. To Arizona, it all just served as another reminder: _No wonder I've never been able to get over her. _

Callie's expression mirrored hers, her lips parted open and her eyes large and lustful. "Hey," she breathed. It came out hoarse.

Arizona forced herself to focus. Her lips quirked up. "You ready to go?"

Callie nodded, and Arizona locked the door behind her and began leading them to her truck.

Callie's eyes remained trained on Arizona's face as she walked beside her, attempting to gauge her mood. Once upon a time, she would've known exactly what Arizona was thinking and feeling. Once upon a time, Arizona had been her best friend, and Callie had been able to read her like a book. Now, though, her quiet _dis_quieted Callie. She couldn't decipher what was behind it: anger? sadness?_ desire, _maybe? Callie gulped. _If only. _

"So, um, what have you done this afternoon?" Callie prompted once they started driving.

"Oh, you know. Ended world hunger," Arizona deadpanned, "wrote the next American classic." She risked a look at Callie, smiling a little. "No. I got dressed, which took a lot longer than I should admit."

Callie was thrilled by the notion that, maybe, Arizona had been as nervous as she was, but she tried to play it cool. "How come?"

Arizona looked at her in disbelief, a nervous laugh escaping her throat. "Um, Callie, have you looked in the mirror? I have to at least _try_ to measure up."

"Please," Callie scoffed, ignoring her own flushing cheeks. "Let's not forget that you literally are what made me gay—and you didn't even have to try. You just, like, existed as my best friend. And then, before I knew it, I wanted you like crazy."

"Well, same," Arizona reminded her.

Callie's eyebrows furrowed. "Wait, what?"

"You kind of made me gay—or at least you made me realize it."

"I thought you were like ten years old when you figured it out. That's when you told me."

"I know," Arizona sighed, "but I only figured it out because of you." She pulled over to the side of the road and parked the car. Neither she nor Callie made a move to get out, though.

"I think I'm missing part of this story," Callie decided, all her attention on Arizona.

Arizona bit her lip. "It's kind of lame."

"Nothing about you is ever lame," Callie insisted, her voice more solemn than she had intended.

Arizona chuckled a little, buying herself time. "Okay. Remember when our parents sent us away to band camp? That summer we briefly decided to take up the violin?"

"The mess hall's all-you-can-eat Sunday pancakes? The freezing cold river? How could I forget?" Callie joked.

"Exactly. And we befriended that girl—I forget her name—who was obsessed with horses, and I remember you liked her more than I did."

"True," Callie hummed. "I think you thought she was annoying."

Arizona rolled her eyes. "I never got the horse thing."

"I know," Callie laughed. "But what about her?"

"Oh, yeah," Arizona vocalized, suddenly remembering the reason for sharing the story. "So, anyway, I had this horrible dream about the two of you kissing. And, when I woke up, I was so mad. Like, the thought made my skin crawl. And then I realized it upset me so much because I was jealous because _I_ wanted to kiss you. And then puberty happened and boobs happened and I realized that, yes, I indeed was attracted to girls."

"Oh, wow," Callie commented, processing this new information.

Arizona made a face. "I told you it was lame."

"It's not lame!" Callie argued. "I just can't believe you had a crush on me for eight years."

"It's been more than eight years," Arizona muttered quietly, only half-hoping Callie could hear her.

Callie smiled softly. "Yeah. For me, too."

Arizona looked back at her, an eyebrow raised. "You ready for the best fries in town?"

Callie laughed, grateful for a little levity. "Always."

They walked down the road for a minute and then stopped at the corner in front of a ramshackle building that looked even older than those around it.

Callie squinted up at the flickering marquee. "Emerald City Bar?"

"Yep," Arizona grinned, holding the door open for her. "Come on."

Callie was relieved to see that the vibe was much livelier inside the bar than the outside had suggested. True, the majority of the customers were middle-aged men, but—in the bar's defense—most of the town was made up of middle-aged men. Still, everyone who was there looked jovial and at home, crowded around tables or laughing with friends up at the bar.

"Arizona!" Alex called from behind the bar. He jumped over its little gate to go greet them.

When he spotted Callie with her, he bowed toward her. _Bowed_. Like a butler in some old movie. "Ms. Callie Torres. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Arizona was mortified. "Alex!" She swatted him on the arm. "Stop that. Get up."

Callie just looked at them, her expression amused.

"What?" Alex defended as he stood upright. "You told me to be a gentleman!"

"A gentleman, yes," Arizona hissed. "Not a weirdo!"

Alex just barked out a laugh, obviously pleased with himself for embarrassing Arizona. He held out his hand to Callie, serious now. "I'm Alex. We went to high school together."

Callie smiled as she shook his hand. "I remember you. Hi. I'm Callie."

"Oh, I know," Alex grinned. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Alex!" Arizona felt herself blush, and Callie couldn't help but laugh at how cute and embarrassed she was.

Alex ignored her, signaling instead to the bar around him. "Welcome to my bar. This is the spot where country folk try to pick up ladies—or drink to oblivion."

Callie laughed. "Sounds like fun."

Alex motioned to an empty booth in the corner. "Go. Sit. I'll bring your drinks in a few."

As they began walking in that direction, Callie realized, "We never told him what we wanted."

Arizona chuckled. "That's Alex's gift. He knows what you want before you do. You can order something special, if you really want to, but people generally just let him choose."

Callie sat down across from Arizona. "That's so cool. And he'll know we want French fries?"

"He knows me, so he knows we'll want bottomless fries."

Callie grinned. "I do remember you liking those. And it's a welcome change from all the salads I've been eating at home with my dad."

Arizona looked at her with concern. "How is he?"

"He's good." Callie chuckled. "He kind of adores you. He wants me to invite you over for dinner."

Arizona's eyebrows flew up. "Did you...tell him we're going out tonight?"

"I didn't. He'd probably jump for joy if I did. Or maybe have another heart attack."

"Oh, man," Arizona laughed. "Let's not let that happen."

"All right, ladies," Alex offered, stepping up to their table with a plate of drinks and fries. He set one of the drinks in front of Callie with a wink. "An orgasm for you."

"Alex," Arizona warned.

"What?" he laughed. "She'll like it. Promise." Then, he set the other drink in front of Arizona. "And a shot of tequila for you."

She glared at him. "Why?"

He slid his eyes toward Callie as he leaned toward Arizona, whispering, "Are you really going to tell me you don't need it?"

And, well, Arizona couldn't really think of a good response to that. It was true: she was all nerves. A little alcohol certainly could help.

Alex set down a heaping plate of French fries between them, along with ketchup and aioli for dipping. "And fries, of course." He looked at Arizona, joking, "The guys know you're here, so they're peeling about a hundred more potatoes for you back there. Don't worry."

Arizona kept glaring at him, but Callie just laughed and attempted to assuage her embarrassment. "Better tell them to peel two-hundred," she joked, "since I'm here, too."

Alex grinned at her, grateful that at least _someone_ appreciated his humor. "I like you." Then, he caught sight of Arizona's eyes signaling for him to leave and, this time, he listened. "We'll get to know each other later, though. Let me know when you want more fries."

After he walked away, Callie fixed Arizona with a smile. "Don't be embarrassed. He's funny."

Arizona growled. "He likes to torture me. Plus," she added, "he's seen me brood about you for years, so it's kind of a big deal for him to see what all the fuss was about. And I know he saw you now and then at the high school, but knowing you…is different."

Callie's lips quirked up, her voice soft. "He's lucky to know you."

Arizona shrugged, conceding, "We're good for each other. So," she held up her shot, "a toast?"

"Sure," Callie chuckled, raising her glass. "I've never had an orgasm before." Her cheeks flushed red as she realized how that must have sounded. "I mean, the drink. I've had a, you know…I've had an actual orgasm before."

Arizona smiled, happy not to be the blushing one, for a change. She thought back to that night, twelve years ago, under the peach trees… "I remember."

At that, Callie's blush deepened, as she imagined Arizona imagining _her_ having her first orgasm at eighteen. Giving up on the toast, she took a gulp of her drink. She needed it.

Taking a cue from Callie—who was taking a bigger sip than was heathy or, really, acceptable in polite company—Arizona downed her shot of tequila. As the alcohol burned her throat, she made a face, her eyes squeezed tight. Finally, she opened them and looked at Callie. "Cheers?" she joked.

Callie laughed. "God. Sorry. I get a little on edge around you. I was hoping this might help."

Arizona held up her empty shot glass. "There's always tequila, if we're not able to warm up to each other without the social lubricant."

"Maybe the fries will help," Callie suggested, popping one into her mouth.

"It would be easier if we were strangers," Arizona noted, her tone regretful. "Believe it or not, I'm usually a lot better with women."

Callie scoffed. "Trust me, I believe it." She looked around her. There weren't many women in the bar, but those who were there were ogling Arizona. And, sure, they were dressed like lumberjacks—or, well, lumber_jills_—but, nevertheless, they were gorgeous, and their eyes were on Arizona.

"It's just that, with you, everything's so loaded. It would be easier to just start from the beginning, but…I don't think we can."

Callie nodded. "And…I don't know. Would we even really want to?"

"It would be a lot easier," Arizona insisted. "But no, I guess not. It'd be different. I don't usually actually _like_ people—more just lust after them for a minute and then move on once the deed is done."

"What a euphemism," Callie laughed. "But, to be clear, I want you to lust after me, too."

Arizona made a face, but she couldn't hide her smile. "I think we've established I've been doing that for a long time."

Callie smiled back. "I think we've established that you're not the only one."

* * *

"Where are you taking me now?" Callie asked as Arizona drove past the orchard and her own parked car.

"You said there was nothing to do around here," Arizona reminded her. "I already showed you that there are fries to eat, and now I'm going to show you something else."

"Okay," Callie chuckled. "I guess I'll let you surprise me."

Arizona drove up the into the hills, darkness spreading all around them and no other cars in sight. Finally, she stopped at the hill's peak, shut off the engine, and turned to look at Callie. "You wanted to know what was beyond these hills."

"Oh!" Callie remembered, attempting to see out the window. She turned to Arizona, her eyes bright. "Can we go look?"

Arizona laughed, pleased that she'd made the right call by taking them there. "Yeah. Let's go."

Shutting the doors after them, they walked toward the edge of the hill to look at the view: they spotted farms and trees and houses illuminated, only by the occasional streetlamp and the light of the moon.

As they stood there, looking out at the county that seemed to go on eons, Callie inhaled a deep breath in preparation. Then, slowly, she edged her hand into Arizona's, grateful when she felt Arizona respond in kind, accepting the gesture and entwining their fingers.

And even just that simple touch left Arizona breathless, her heart kabooming in her chest. All at once, she felt inhuman, the feel Callie's skin against hers practically sending a shock to her system. And when Callie's thumb rubbed against hers…

Arizona exhaled an uneven breath and attempted to find her voice. "So," she hemmed. "What do you think?" Her eyes remained fixed on the landscape before them.

Callie turned to her, eyes caressing her face. "It's beautiful."

Arizona looked back at her and, inadvertently, Callie shivered—maybe from the cold, or maybe from Arizona's eyes on her, so clear and so blue.

"Hold on." Arizona dropped her hand. "I think I might have a blanket in the truck." She hurried away, rifling through the stuff in her backseat until she found the blanket she'd been searching for. She strode back over to Callie and draped the fuzzy thing over her shoulders; it was so long that it skimmed the ground.

Callie smiled at her, grateful for the gesture and the warmth. She lifted an arm, inviting Arizona in. "Want some?"

Silently, Arizona side-stepped toward her, closer and closer until she could pull one side of the blanket around herself, Callie's arm hugging her shoulders. Arizona pulled it closer and ended up brushing up against Callie's breast and waist. She froze at the contact. She was scared to say anything or even move—closer or away. And she sensed Callie was scared, too. They had wanted this for so long. And, now, finally getting the chance to exist in each other's presence again—to touch, to feel—they were afraid to open their mouths for fear that they'd scream or howl or burst into tears.

Slowly, Arizona ghosted her hand up to the small of Callie's back, relishing in the feel of her—even though her touch was feather-light.

At the sensation, Callie's breath shuddered out, turning to fog in the cool night air.

Arizona wanted to reach out, to grab the cloud of her breath, to hold it in her hands. She wanted to swallow it. To take Callie into her—any part Callie was willing to give.

Callie turned to meet her eyes, and Arizona blushed—realizing she'd been caught. "I forgot about this."

Arizona's brows knit together, forcing herself to focus on Callie's words, rather than the way her eyes shined in the lowlight. "About what?"

"Your intensity," Callie clarified. "And, well, my intensity with you. The way you look at me like you really see me."

"I do see you," Arizona breathed. She'd always seen Callie—known her, heart and soul.

"I know." Callie smiled softly, focused on the way the moonlight reflected off ivory skin.

"Are you in a hurry to get home?" Arizona asked. "Because, if you want…you can usually see the stars really well from up here."

Callie craned her neck back, looking up at the sky, and Arizona tipped her head toward the truck with a little chuckle. "Doing that will hurt your neck. Over here we can lie down."

They settled on the truck bed, the blanket large enough to wrap under them and around them as they lay together, their eyes fixed to the sky.

"_Oh_," Callie breathed at the sight of all the stars. There were hundreds. Thousands. Countless stars.

Arizona turned to her, grinning. "You can't see all these in San Francisco, can you?"

Callie just shook her head, her eyes on the stars. "All the light pollution there—you can hardly see any. But here…" She trailed off.

They looked at the sky in silence for another minute, and then Callie offered, "You know, I'm terrified of heights, but I think it'd be so cool to parachute or skydive from up there. Especially around here. You'd be able to see for miles and miles."

"True," Arizona hummed. Then, processing, she turned her face toward Callie. "You're _terrified_ of heights? Really?"

"Yes, really!" Callie insisted. "The higher you are, the more likely the fall will kill you."

"I always think about that, though," Arizona mused. "Death, I mean. Like, even if you die from your biggest fear—heights, maybe, or maybe the atom bomb—whatever it is still wouldn't kill us more times than we're going to die anyway. So maybe it would be a scary way to go out, but isn't death always scary? And it only happens once, and then it's just done."

Callie fixed Arizona with a look—half amused and half unsettled. "How cheery," she joked.

"Hey," Arizona defended, "after everything I saw in the war, I've come to terms with death. I'm not scared—more just scared of the uncertainty of it. And not having enough time."

"Yeah, I think that's probably the scariest part," Callie accepted. "Not so much death itself but a life cut short."

"Dying before you have the chance to live and be brave and do what you want to do," Arizona added.

Callie turned on her side, focusing fully on Arizona. "So what would you want to do? If today was your last day on earth?"

Arizona turned on her side, too, and was struck and overwhelmed by how close they were. Attempting to hold onto her sanity, despite their sudden closeness, she offered, in school-teacher fashion, "Morbid thought, Calliope. Are you planning on murdering me tonight?"

Callie laughed. "No. I promise."

A minute later, realizing Callie was still awaiting an answer, Arizona sighed, resigned to the truth. "I'd want to…" She reached out for Callie's cheek and saw that her hand was shaking. "I'd want-"

"I want-" Cutting herself off, she ducked her head toward Callie.

Instinctually, Callie licked her lips, her own hand coming to rest—ever so lightly—on Arizona's hip. She felt it trembling.

And, at that, Arizona pressed her lips to Callie's, swallowing back a moan at how soft she was. Callie felt Arizona cut her breath in half—the way her kiss was both cautious and impatient, want on the verge of frenzied but consciously working to maintain control.

Arizona dipped her tongue into Callie's mouth, and Callie eagerly reciprocated, her grip tightening on Arizona's hip. She felt her whole body begin to tingle as Arizona's lips parted wide in a gasp, and Callie finally got a good taste of her. Her mouth tasted like tequila and riverwater.

"God," Callie breathed, burying her face in Arizona's neck as she worked to catch her breath. She inhaled deep, breathing in the scent of her skin. Dirt. A floral perfume. Sweat.

Arizona tilted her head back, giving Callie better access to her neck as her fingers tangled in thick black hair. Then, she guided Callie's face back to hers, making contact with those full lips again, feeling her whole body start to hum.

Finally—and regretfully—they pulled away, though their hands remained on each other, their faces still so close that their noses brushed. Callie's breath came out in a rush. "I've never wanted anyone like this."

"I know," Arizona murmured, by which she meant: _You touch me, and I turn to smoke. You touch me, and I come apart at the seams._

Callie pulled back a little—just enough so that she could meet Arizona's eyes. _Ocean deep,_ she thought. "You think we can see each other again tomorrow?"

Arizona's lips quirked up. "It's already tomorrow," she sassed. It was long after midnight.

Jokingly, Callie rolled her eyes. "Fine. Later today, then?"

Arizona nodded. "_Yes_."

"_And_ tomorrow?" Callie added, her voice playful.

Humor that Arizona instantly picked up on and matched. "Please," she breathed.

"The day after?" Callie pressed.

Arizona chuckled, her hand coming up to Callie's cheek again, her thumb caressing a soft jaw. "Sure. But what about the day after that?"

"Yes," Callie vowed, her hand coming up to cup Arizona's. "I'm all yours."

* * *

**As always, thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think in the reviews. **


	5. Chapter 5

The following day, Callie squealed as soon as she and Arizona walked through the entrance. "Oh my god! This is the used bookstore of my dreams."

Arizona grinned. "I'd hoped that you'd like it." She reached for Callie's hand, overjoyed when Callie immediately responded, entwining their fingers so that they fit perfectly together like a stone broken in two.

They walked through the bookstore—no one else there but the elderly owner and his cat, Chaucer—overwhelmed by the ceiling-high bookshelves and the endless stacks of books. There was hardly any room to walk, and the place smelled like paper and dust.

"I could life here forever," Callie decided, inspecting the various titles in one of the floor-to-ceiling piles of books, not even supported by a shelf. "I want all of these. I want everything."

Arizona laughed. "I should probably get a few books myself. It's been a while since I've read 'real' literature." She turned to Callie. "Any recommendations?"

"Oh, I have _all_ the recommendations," Callie assured her. She was an English teacher, after all. "What are you looking for?"

Arizona shrugged. "Anything. I trust that you have good taste."

"I do," Callie chuckled. "Hmm..." She walked toward a nearby shelf and ran her eyes over it. She looked toward Arizona for confirmation. "Are you open to poetry, too?"

Arizona nodded. "Sure."

Callie plucked a book off the shelf and handed it to her. "You'll like this one."

Arizona inspected the front cover. "Marilyn Hacker?"

Callie's head bobbed. "This collection, specifically, is made up of a bunch of traditional sonnets. But it's so cool because hers become, like, antisonnets and stray from the tradition of men writing sonnets about women in that Hacker's are so, so explicitly gay." As Callie got excited—nerding out over literature—she began to talk faster and faster. "Like, it borders on being lewd, sometimes—it's that gay."

Arizona smirked. "Well, that definitely sounds like something I'd be into. Got anything else for me?"

Callie moved over to the fiction section and immediately found another book. "Here. Carmen Maria Machado's _Her Body and Other Parties_. Also gay." She kept looking. "What about classics? _The Awakening_ and _The Great Gatsby_ have been read as gay—I wrote a paper about some of the more modern interpretations."

"You know, I'd be okay with non-gay books, too," Arizona reminded her. "But you're right about _The Awakening_. We read it in high school—remember? It's been one of my favorites ever since. I love Chopin."

"Oh, yeah," Callie recalled, thinking back to their high school English class.

Arizona smiled. "Okay. I'm going to start reading Hacker," she decided. "You should keep exploring. We can stay here all afternoon, if you want."

"You're going to regret saying that…" Callie teased. "I might actually take you up on your offer." She looked at the books scattered around her on all sides, trying to decide where to focus her attention first.

While she kept looking around, Arizona sat down on the store's worn couch and flipped to a random page of _Love, Death, and the Changing of the Seasons_.

_Future Conditional_

_After the supper dishes, let us start_

_where we left off, my knees between your knees,_

_half in the window seat. O let me, please,_

_hands in your hair, drink in your mouth. Sweetheart,_

_your body is a text I need the art_

_to be constructed by. I halfway kneel_

_to your lap, propped up by your thighs, and feel_

_burning my hand, your privacy, your part_

_armor underwear. This time I'll loose_

_each button from its hole; I'll find the hook,_

_release promised abundance to this want,_

_while your hands, please, here and here, exigent_

_and certain, open this; it is, this book,_

_made for your hands to read, for your mouth to use._

An hour later, Callie came back over to her, plopping down on the couch with a huge stack of books.

"Whoa," Arizona exhaled. "Are you getting _all_ of those?"

Callie grinned. "Hey, I'm here all summer. I need things to read."

Arizona's brows flew up. "That's a lot of things to read." She paused, then: "Are you sure you'll have time to see me tomorrow? And the day after?" Her cheeks flushed. "Not that I…I mean, we don't have to."

Callie's head snapped up. "Are you kidding?" she laughed. "I think I'd be happy spending all day every day with you. But you'd definitely get tired of me, so I figured I should probably pursue my other interests, too."

Arizona raised an eyebrow. "_I'm_ one of your interests?"

Playfully, Callie rolled her eyes. _Does Arizona not realize how special she is?_ "Yes. A big one."

"And, for the record," Arizona added, thinking back to what Callie said before, "I don't think it's possible for me to get tired of you. We used to spend all our time together, and I never got tired of you before. What I got tired of was _not_ seeing you." She bit her bottom lip, resenting how vulnerable she'd made herself by admitting just how much she had missed Callie.

Callie's lips curled up into a soft smile, her hand falling to Arizona's knee. "I missed you, too."

* * *

After tossing their new-to-them used books onto the front porch, Callie and Arizona found themselves making their way through the orchard again. Hot and sweaty under the afternoon sun, they collapsed under the shade of a few trees, lying down amid the leaves and silt, the grass patchy along the ground.

Callie turned her head toward Arizona. "So tell me more about what I've missed the last twelve years."

"Oof." Arizona shook her head. "That's a really long time. I don't know if I can just summarize it in a few sentences."

Callie held her head up on her hand, her eyes fixed on Arizona's face. "Tell me about the war, then. How long were you enlisted? Why'd you come home?"

Arizona gulped, her mood instantly souring. "Um. I was in the Army for four years. And then there was kind of an accident in Afghanistan, and that's when I was honorably discharged."

Callie's voice suddenly turned quiet. "What happened?"

Arizona looked up at the branches above their heads, the leaves shifting in the breeze. She focused on staying calm, on recalling the event without any hint of emotion, the way the newspapers had—those that had bothered reporting on the event at all. "We hit a landmine. It was a big one. There were lots of injuries."

"And you said you were a corporal?" Callie asked. "That means you were in charge of other soldiers, right?"

"Sometimes," Arizona nodded. "I was leading a unit that day. Most of us made it out alive, which I guess is the best possible outcome one could expect."

"Were you injured?" Callie pressed.

Arizona shrugged. "A little."

Callie pursed her lips, deciding whether or not she should press harder and ask more. Finally, ever so gently: "Was anyone killed?"

Arizona felt her throat close up. She felt a pinch behind her eyes. "Yes."

Callie exhaled a tremulous breath. She couldn't bear the thought of Arizona losing people she was close to. _Again_. "I'm so sorry."

Arizona forced herself to be strong, to try to maintain a neutral expression. _Come on, Arizona. Buck up. Soldier on._ "It's okay. It was a long time ago."

Callie looked and looked at her, trying to gauge her mood—trying to make sense of this woman who was so complex and hurt and foreign and yet familiar. "I've found that grief doesn't really have an expiration date."

Arizona was silent for a moment as she worked to regain her cool, and then she turned her attention to Callie and _her_ life. "Your turn. Tell me about what you've been up to these last twelve years."

Callie hesitated, not quite ready to switch subjects when clearly there was still so much darkness on Arizona's mind. But, finally, she made a face as she offered, "My life has been pretty dull."

Arizona chuckled. "All I do is farm peaches. _You_ live in California. Your life can't possibly be dull."

"Believe me, there are parts of California that are dull. Like, it's so big that some of it isn't by the ocean or anything—there are whole cities with just farms and cows and factory workers and Republica-"

"Like here," Arizona interrupted with a laugh.

"Oh, yeah," Callie realized. "But, I mean, California's not that exciting when you actually live there full-time—at least it isn't for me, but maybe that's because I have a pretty simple career. I just got my Bachelor's degree and teaching credential at Stanford and then started teaching while getting my Master's and then kept teaching and, now, here I am. It's not really noteworthy."

"Do you like the school you work at? It's Catholic—does the school administration know that you like women?"

"It's a good school," Callie noted. "_Great_ kids—smart, hardworking, really diverse. And it's a Catholic school in San Francisco, so it's coed, and there aren't any uniforms, and everyone's really liberal." She paused. "But, culturally, it's still Catholic. So even though like half the staff is gay and lives in the Castro, we're not allowed to talk about it to the kids. So while my coworker can say 'Oh, it was my husband's and my anniversary last weekend' to the students, I wouldn't be able to say 'Oh, it's my girlfriend's birthday on Saturday.' And even when it's blatantly obvious that a teacher's gay—and the staff knows it, and all the kids know it—we're still not allowed to confirm it. Does that make sense?"

Arizona nodded. "Basically: you can be 'out' in your personal life, but not in your professional life."

"Exactly. Which isn't ideal—especially because a lot of fourteen- through eighteen-year-olds _are_ struggling with their sexualities and could probably use a mentor—but, other than that, the school's mostly good. I was dating the biology teacher—Erica—who ultimately left because of the policy, though. She said it was detrimental to her mental health. Which I guess is fair."

"Yeah," Arizona mused. "Like, I've been 'out' since I was ten. I don't think I'd be able—or willing—to hide my lesbianic tendencies for the sake of a job. Especially if nearby public schools don't mind if you admit you're gay."

Callie made a face. "I know. I don't think I'll stay at the school forever. I want to move into the administration sector eventually—be a dean or principal of a school and actually make some valuable changes. Plus a little more money," she laughed.

Arizona's lips curled up into a smile. "Principal Torres. It has a nice ring to it."

Callie laughed with her. Then, she regretted, "I feel like I just babbled on about myself for a hundred years, but I still don't know much more about what you've done than I did before. You seem reticent about talking about your time in the Army…I don't have to bring it up anymore, if you don't want me to."

Arizona exhaled a long sigh. "I had no illusions about how hard war would be. But…there's just no way to prepare for what it's really like: to get so close to people just to watch them die. And to feel like you're the one who's responsible." She shook her head, admitting, "I don't like to talk about it, and people don't generally like to hear about it. It's easier to think about war as this illusive thing where everyone's always strong and brave and buff and only the 'bad guys' die. If the general public knew what it was really like, they wouldn't be able to sleep at night." She focused on Callie's face and, immediately, her eyes softened. "I don't want to be responsible for giving you any bad dreams."

Callie's heart ached in response to the way Arizona was looking at her—with so much tenderness—and in response to her words. Her voice was barely audible: "Do _you_ have bad dreams?"

Arizona tried to smile. "Not often," she lied. Resenting her own vulnerability again, she sat up, eager to escape. "I think I'm getting sunburned. You want to go inside for a bit?"

"Sure," Callie chirped, understanding Arizona's desire to distance herself from their talk of war and death and homophobia. They stood up. "Hold on." Callie reached up, fingering a tendril of blonde hair, a leaf caught in a tangle—intimacy disguised as helpfulness. "You have something in your hair."

Arizona stood stock-still, unable to move with Callie so close to her, her hand in her hair, her soft breaths washing over her face. Then, unable to help herself, she reached out to fix the collar of Callie's black denim jacket, which—if she was being entirely honest—didn't really need fixing. But, even so, her fingers lingered there. She wanted to have her hands on Callie at all times. She wanted to pull Callie by her lapels, to again feel those impossibly soft lips against hers.

Simultaneously, Callie seemed to get the same impulse. She thought about how they must have looked to a passerby—if anyone were to pass by the orchard: her hand in Arizona's hair, Arizona's hands clutching her lapels. Their faces mere inches apart. "I…" Abruptly, she dropped her hand and forced herself to take a small step back. "Sorry."

Arizona immediately noticed the absence of Callie's warm skin against her hair. She took a tiny step forward, not wanting to let Callie distance herself. "What are you sorry about?"

Callie tried to laugh, but the sound caught in her throat. "About…I don't know, being weird? I'm not usually like this. You touch me and I can barely breathe."

Suddenly feeling better, Arizona smiled. She was confident in this role, and she was eager to ditch the frailty she'd felt a few minutes earlier. Her sexual prowess made her feel larger than life rather than small. And, even more than that, she relished in knowing that she had the same effect on Callie as Callie had on her.

She ran her fingers down one of Callie's bare arms, watching the way tan skin lined with goosebumps in her wake. Her own breath caught in her throat. "Can I kiss you?"

Callie nodded. "Please."

Arizona reached for a soft waist, and Callie eagerly stepped toward her, their bodies meeting in the middle. Arizona leaned up as Callie's head tilted back, their lips immediately pressing together. Callie brought her hand to the back of an ivory neck, demanding continued contact, while Arizona's hands tightened on hips, pulling Callie closer and closer. She held back a moan as she felt the weight of Callie's warmth against her and ached for the feeling of bare skin. She buried her hands under a thin t-shirt, her palms splaying against a sweaty back. She found herself resenting the sun—the way it managed to make Callie sweat like that, to make her so wet-to-the-touch. Arizona yearned for that curvaceous body slippery against hers.

Pulling away for oxygen, Callie's voice came out breathy. "What are you doing tonight?" she asked. "It's my turn to take _you_ out."

Arizona made a face, stepping back as she began leading them back toward the house. "I promised my parents I'd go over there for dinner."

"Oh," Callie lamented. "Tomorrow, then."

Arizona smiled. "_Yes_."

And, hearing how eager Arizona was in the tone of her voice, Callie couldn't help but laugh a little. _Thank God it's not just me._ "I guess that's actually perfect. It means I'll be able to read one of my new books tonight."

"Ooh. That'll be fun." Arizona turned back just long enough to flash Callie a grin.

As they kept walking, Callie focused on Arizona's golden hair—the way it swayed as she moved—then on her strong arms, her narrow waist, those toned legs—hidden under jeans—that went on for days. "You have the best legs."

Arizona stiffened. _The best leg,_ she corrected silently—but she wasn't about to say that out loud. Not yet. Instead, she forced a smile. "Thanks."

* * *

That evening, Arizona rode her bike to her parents' house, dropping it onto the grass and then walking up onto the porch to ring the doorbell.

"Arizona!" Barbara exclaimed as she pulled her daughter into a hug. She smelled like flour and orange blossom shampoo, and Arizona melted against her. "Hey, Mom."

As soon as Barbara pulled back from their hug and got a good look at Arizona's face, she declared, "_You_ saw Callie today." She let out a little giggle.

"I-" Arizona blushed as they walked inside. "What? How do you know?"

"You're glowing!" Barbara motioned her husband over. "Daniel, come say hi to our beautiful, glowing girl."

Arizona felt her blush deepen. "Mom," she warned.

Barbara just wrapped her in another quick hug with a laugh. "Don't be embarrassed, darlin'. We're just happy to see you happy. We were so worried about how you'd react to Callie coming back into town. We're just so relieved that it's working out better than expected." She pulled back, cupping Arizona's soft cheek in her maternal way. "You ready for dinner? I made a casserole."

Arizona gifted her a smile. "Sure."

As they ate, Barbara offered, "You know, it'll be Tim's thirty-fifth birthday in a few weeks. Your father and I were talking about doing something special—maybe a barbecue birthday celebration. You know he could snarf down hot dogs like no one else." She laughed and then lifted her napkin to her face, wiping at her teary eyes. Even fourteen years after losing her son, the pain never disappeared completely.

Arizona offered a tight nod, holding back her own tears. "Sure. That, uh, sounds nice."

"And, really, it could just be a summer party," Daniel added, wanting to reassure his daughter. "We won't sing 'happy birthday' or anything. We'll just have Timothy on our minds as we enjoy time with friends and family."

"Exactly," Barbara agreed. "It's a chance to have some fun and appreciate all these blessings of ours. You could invite whoever you want, too—Alex, Callie…even her parents. I know we weren't ever really close to them, but it _could_ be nice to see catch up…"

Arizona gave her a disbelieving look. "I had thought you didn't like Callie anymore."

"I didn't like that she hurt you!" Barbara clarified. "But I always liked her when you two were growing up. And now that she's giving you the love you deserve, we're on the same side."

"'Love' might be a bit of an exaggeration," Arizona argued. _We've barely had two dates! Though_, she reminded herself, _they were pretty good dates._ And the way she'd felt when they'd kissed…that kind of physical response was a reaction unique to Callie. "But, fine. I'll think about inviting Callie. And maybe her parents."

Barbara set her hand over Arizona's. "Callie knew Tim, too, you know. She ought to be included in our celebration."

* * *

As planned, Callie started reading one of the novels she'd bought at the used bookstore earlier that day. After a hundred pages, though, she felt her mind drifting and decided she needed to leave the house. It was 10pm and, already, her parents were fast asleep. She was eager for a little company, though—any company. It was a Saturday night, after all.

She ducked out the back door and began walking down the road, not yet sure of her destination. She loved how quiet it was at night in her hometown—nothing but the sound of cricketcall and croaking frogs. There was so little light and no one else walking around—at least not in her parents' neighborhood. San Francisco, on the other hand, was constant action. There, the city never slept, and the lights never went out. There, there was no such thing as quiet.

When she walked into Emerald City Bar, though, the quiet dissipated. The place was more crowded than it had been when she'd gone with Arizona, with people gathered around tables and a few people even trying to lead some line dancing.

She strode up to the bar in search of Alex. And a drink. Immediately, he spotted her and grinned, bowing slightly. "Ms. Callie Torres. Welcome back."

Callie rolled her eyes and laughed. _He's a goofball, but he's easy to get along with,_ she noted. _He must be good company for Arizona_. "Hey! Busy here tonight," she noted. She had to yell to be heard over the loud hillbilly music.

"Pretty typical Saturday night." Alex slid a beer in front of her, and Callie gave him a five-dollar bill.

"How'd you know I was in the mood for a beer?" she asked, a little taken aback.

Alex shrugged cockily. "It's a gift." He looked over her shoulder. "Hey, I've got to go give those guys over there some more fries and refills, but then I'll come sit with you for a bit."

"Sure," Callie smiled, grateful for the company. "I'll be here."

A few minutes later, Alex came back over to her, seating himself on the bar stool beside hers. "So…" he prompted, his expression mischievous. "How was the date with Robbins last night?"

Callie couldn't help but beam at the thought of it—and of their second date to the used bookstore. "It was good."

"Good," Alex smirked. "She's only been waiting for it to happen for twelve years."

"Longer than that," Callie admitted. "She's had a crush on me since we were ten."

Alex's brows flew up. "Damn. _Twenty_ years!"

"I know," Callie chuckled, her stomach a mess of warmth. "And it's been a really long time for me, too. So I'm glad we're finally getting our chance."

Alex nodded. "I didn't know if she'd make it. I'm glad things are starting to look up."

Callie's eyebrows furrowed. "What? What do you mean?"

"Because of the war," Alex clarified, wanting to remind Callie of what was perhaps his best friend's most defining—and certainly most traumatic—moment. "Losing her leg. She almost died there, in Afghanistan. Hell, she almost died here, too."

"Wait…" Callie brought her hand to her face, processing his words. "Arizona…lost her leg? In the war?"

Suddenly, Alex's face bleached white. "Shit."_ Arizona hasn't told her._

Callie waited, her eyes wide. "Alex…?"

"I, um." Alex looked down, suddenly worrying his hands together. "Shit. Robbins is going to kill me."

Callie tried again: "Arizona lost her leg? As in, she's missing a leg?"

Alex hesitated for a moment and then, finally, he nodded. "I mean," he amended, "she still has a prosthetic, so she kind of has a leg, but…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "She's going to kill me."

"I…had no idea."

"And you should keep pretending you have no idea," Alex insisted, the tone of his voice suddenly urgent. "I'm sure she wanted to tell you on her own terms. It's kind of a sore subject for her."

"Understandably," Callie confirmed, her voice quiet. She got a faraway look in her eyes, and Alex took that as his cue to back off and give her time to process.

"I've got to get back to work. I'll see you later."

* * *

The following evening, Callie walked over to Arizona's house, catching sight of the blonde on the broad porch swing. _Play it cool,_ she reminded herself. _Don't let Arizona know you know._

She strode up the porch stairs with her carefully-rehearsed smile, her eyes inadvertently focusing on Arizona's jean-clad legs, wondering which one was actually just a prosthesis. Before she could tear her gaze away and act like everything was normal, Arizona's voice interrupted her thoughts:

"Someone told you."

Callie's head snapped up, and she immediately felt her cheeks flush. _I hate lying._ "What? No-"

Arizona crossed her arms, not even willing to give Callie the opportunity to try to lie to her. "Who was it?"

"Arizona, I-" Callie cut herself with a sigh, giving up on the charade. She didn't want to lie. Not to Arizona. Defeated, she sat down beside her on the porch swing. "It was Alex."

Arizona shook her head, seething, "I'm going to kill him." She sunk her head into her hands, not wanting to look at Callie's pity-eyes, not wanting Callie to see her own eyes suddenly welling up with tears.

"Don't be mad at him!" Callie pleaded. She almost rested her hand on Arizona's shoulder in a comforting gesture but ultimately decided not to, feeling nervous. "He didn't mean to break your trust. He assumed I already knew!"

Suddenly regretful, Arizona pursed her lips, her eyes on her feet. _I should've told her earlier. I know. _

Callie exhaled a long breath. _She should have told me earlier._ "When you said you were 'a little' hurt in the war, I thought you meant a few cuts and bruises. A few bad dreams. Not…this."

Arizona attempted to look unaffected, despite the fact that she was falling apart inside. She didn't want Callie to see her as unwhole. And, now, of course she did. "It was a long time ago."

"I can't believe I didn't know—I mean, that no one ever told me—not my parents or family-friends or anything. Alex said your heart stopped during surgery. You could've died, and I might not even have found out about it until months later."

"You weren't here," Arizona reminded her.

"I know," Callie lamented. "And I wish I had been here—now more than ever. I wish I'd been here for you."

Arizona just looked at her. She sighed. "I should've told you before, so you wouldn't have had to find out from Alex, of all people. I just…I didn't know how."

"Which leg is it?" Callie asked, working to ensure her voice was gentle. "Do you think I could…see it?"

Arizona's expression hardened as she realized Callie was talking about her prosthesis. "Why would you want to?" It was the ugliest part of her—hard and with Velcro straps and plastic sockets. Not exactly sexy. And, for Callie, she wanted to be sexy.

Callie shrugged a little. "It's part of you. And I guess I'm kind of curious." She held out her hands and—realizing what Callie wanted—Arizona turned on the bench so that she was sitting to the side, her legs swinging around so Callie could hold her feet on her lap.

Callie's hands hovered over Arizona's sneakers. She felt herself shaking. "Can I?"

Arizona attempted to swallow back the bile gathering in her throat. It was terrifying—the thought of Callie seeing her like this, her prosthetic leg not real but an imitation coated in a material the color of her skin. Finally, she nodded, silently giving Callie permission.

Gingerly, Callie removed one of Arizona's shoes and then the other. Her hands floated over ankle socks—she was suddenly so nervous—and then, finally, she removed both simultaneously and was met with the sight of two feet. One was soft, reddened and stale-smelling in response to the heat, and the other was a close replica—practically identical in size and likeness. Callie began rolling up the hems of Arizona's loose farmer jeans, revealing more leg. As she got a better look at the realistic prosthetic, her index finger traced a line down Arizona's artificial shin bone, welcoming the feel of cool plastic against her own hot skin.

Despite the heat outside, Arizona felt herself shiver as she watched Callie's finger trail down her prosthetic leg. And, somehow—in spite of her obvious lack of sensation—she swore she could feel that warm tan skin brushing over hers.

Callie then brought one hand to each foot, her thumbs kneading the soles. It felt weird, pressing against the hard prosthetic foot, but she wanted Arizona to know that she recognized that this, too, was part of her. She wanted to assure her that it didn't change the way she felt—that she was still just as attracted to her as she'd been the night before, before she knew. "I did some research last night and read about something called phantom limb pain," she offered conversationally. "Did you ever get that?"

Forcing herself to meet Callie's eyes despite how small she suddenly felt, Arizona nodded.

Callie remained focused on her face as her thumbs maintained their steady pressure. "Do you still get it?"

Arizona just shrugged, looking away.

…Which Callie knew to take as a 'yes.' "Often?" she pressed, wanting to learn more about the injury's long-lasting effects. The notion of Arizona feeling any pain, ever, made her stomach hurt. But, of course, she knew pain was inescapable.

Arizona remained focused on Callie's hands as they moved up, massaging the tops of her feet, the bottoms of her legs. "Yeah," she breathed. "It's pretty much inevitable. Especially because it was a traumatic amputation rather than something done in the comfort of an OR—if you can call a surgeon cutting off your leg _comfortable_." She paused. "But I guess that's better than a bomb."

Callie's eyes bore into clouded blues, feeling her own eyes tear up in sympathy. "I'm sorry I wasn't here. After it happened, I mean."

Arizona waved her off, not wanting to think back to those months of recovery. "It's over with now."

"Still," Callie maintained, her voice barely audible. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too," Arizona admitted with a sigh. "I thought of you so much back then—even though it was, like, ten years after we stopped talking. Lying in the hospital bed, I remember that I kept thinking of you."

Callie's thumbs circled the pressure points behind Arizona's ankles—or, well, her singular ankle. "I've thought about you so much over the years," she confessed. "So many times, I wanted to reach out to you and write or call, but I was terrified you'd just hang up without a word."

"I might have," Arizona admitted with a small smile.

Callie chuckled. "I know. And I would have deserved it."

Arizona's eyes focused on Callie's strong hands—her fingers gorgeously long—and attempted to give into the pleasure of her feet—or, well, her singular foot—being rubbed. The way Callie had touched her prosthetic, without even hesitating…

_No one else ever wants to go near it,_ she thought. But Callie had approached it without fear and accepted it immediately. "This feels nice," she admitted, her voice small.

Callie smiled, grateful to see Arizona's own eyes shining with appreciation. Sure, it wasn't genuine joy, but it was something. And she was grateful to learn more about Arizona, to find out more about all she had endured.

Eventually, she pulled the hems of Arizona's pants back down, lifting her legs just enough that she could scoot closer and hold shapely thighs over her own, Arizona's warmth radiating against her. She reached up, tucking a blonde lock of hair behind a light-skinned ear. Her fingers ran over a sharp jaw, not wanting to cease contact.

Arizona's eyes fell shut as she surrendered to the touch, the feel of Callie's skin against hers. She lifted her arm, draping it around Callie's shoulders, and Callie leaned into the touch.

Blue eyes opened to find Callie's face impossibly close to hers. Arizona closed the distance, her lips brushing against Callie's, lightly nibbling a full bottom lip—something that made Callie shudder—before she pulled back. She pressed her lips to Callie's cheek, to the scar on her neck. "You're beautiful." Her voice was so quiet and solemn that it made Callie feel like crying.

Callie's big brown eyes caressed that gorgeous face, the smatter of freckles across her nose. She leaned in once more, needing to feel those pink lips on hers. "And you're exquisite."

* * *

**As you all know, I'm a big sucker for reviews (and, in particular, _thoughtful_ reviews), so please let me know what you think of this chapter! What line was your favorite? Which part didn't you like? I'm excited to hear from you!**


	6. Chapter 6

"So what do you have planned for us this morning?" Arizona asked, her eyes fixed on Callie.

Callie made a face. "Well, originally I'd planned a little hiking date for us, but…that was before I knew about your leg. I guess it might not be that good of an idea."

"It sounds like fun to me."

Callie inspected Arizona's face carefully. "It doesn't hurt you? To walk a few miles?"

"No," Arizona vowed with a reassuring smile. "It's true that I can't run half-marathons anymore, but I can hike just fine. Let's do it."

"I didn't really have a destination in mind," Callie admitted. "I just wanted to see you and thought it might be cool to do a little bit of exploring together."

Arizona shrugged, offering, "So we'll leave it to serendipity. That might be more fun, anyway."

To their relief, it was early enough in the morning that it was only seventy-eight degrees out and not too humid yet, so it was ideal walking weather—or, at the very least, the best they could expect.

As they walked toward the fields beyond the orchard, Arizona took a risk and reached for Callie's hand. It was clammy from the heat but, still, she entwined their fingers, appreciative of the contact.

Callie looked over at her and smiled, squeezing that creamy hand in hers.

They walked in silence for a while, and then Arizona offered, "You owe me a secret, you know."

Callie's brows furrowed. "What?"

"You found out one of my secrets," Arizona explained, "so now it's my turn to learn about one of yours."

"Oh, no," Callie groaned.

Arizona shrugged. "It's only fair."

"Fine," Callie surrendered. "Umm." She thought for a minute. "Okay. I have caligynephobia."

"Caligynephobia…" Arizona processed, attempting to recall the little Greek she knew. Finally: "You're scared of beautiful women?"

Callie's jaw dropped. "How did you know that was what it meant?"

"Callie, I know I didn't go to college or graduate school, but I do know _some_ things."

Callie flushed, worried she had insulted her. "Of course you do. You've always been crazy smart. I know that."

Arizona smiled, letting Callie know she was already forgiven. "'Phobia' means fear, 'gyne' means woman, and 'cali' means beautiful." She paused, suddenly blushing. "And I definitely do _not_ know that third thing because I looked up the meaning of the name 'Callie.'"

Callie raised an eyebrow, pressing, "Oh, yeah? How did you know then?"

Arizona rolled her eyes in exasperation, her blush deepening. "Nevermind."

Callie laughed, leaning in to peck Arizona's bright red cheek as they kept walking. "Tell me."

Arizona shook her head. "I've already said too much."

Callie grinned. "What I was going to say, though, is that you scare me. Because you're like heart-stoppingly pretty. And I have a family history of heart attacks, apparently."

"Oh, please," Arizona scoffed. "As we've established, your name literally _means_ 'heart-stoppingly pretty.' But that doesn't count as a secret." She paused, turning serious. "Tell me something real."

"I don't have any secrets like yours," Callie admitted. "When I said my life in California's dull, I meant it. It's really unextraordinary."

Arizona met her eyes. "I can't imagine anything about you ever being unextraordinary."

Callie felt her cheeks get hot. Then: "Okay, here's something. It's not a secret, exactly, but…A lot of the time, I'm afraid. Constantly, actually. About a lot of things—of real stuff, not just of how pretty you are—like heights and public speaking and bugs and going to the movies or to work and getting killed by an active shooter." She sighed, regretting the state of the world. "But I don't feel all that fear when I'm around you—not as much, anyway. I think you make me less afraid."

Arizona turned away from the sprawling fields and grain silos to look at Callie's face, meeting those big unguarded eyes. "Me, too," she breathed. _Callie makes me feel less afraid._ "I'm remembering why you and I were best friends for so long. It just feels right, being together." She froze, squeezing her eyes shut in sudden embarrassment. "Is it too soon for me to say that?"

"No," Callie vowed. "We've known each other since kindergarten. Plus, it's not new news. Things always felt right between us. Even that night…" She trailed off, overwhelmed with memories of that final night before she had left for Stanford. The feel of Arizona's skin against hers…

Arizona's nodded. It had felt right. "We could've actually, like, been together back then, you know. It didn't have to end like that. It didn't have to be so hard."

"I know," Callie regretted. "It's the fear, again. I sometimes let it rule me."

They trekked along the railroad tracks in comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of nature as the sun got hotter, its light splaying over the backs of their shirts. On one side, crops spread out for acres while, on the knoll to their other side, cows grazed in a pasture. Callie and Arizona looked out at the creatures, so calm and quiet, one calf suckling on his mother.

"I love cows," Callie mused.

"Me, too," Arizona smiled. "Remember how we used to hope the Arnolds' fence and go pet them? They're like big dogs."

"I know!" Callie laughed. "Big calm dogs."

They kept walking until they reached a bridge, and Callie stopped at the railing, gazing out at the countryside below.

Arizona stopped beside her, her elbows resting on the railing. She watched Callie looking out at the landscape and knew her own eyes were filled with longing.

Feeling blue eyes on her, Callie turned her head. Arizona was looking at her lips with so much desire that Callie couldn't help but duck her head and lean toward her in search of a brief kiss. She felt Arizona sigh into the contact, her breath coming out in a rush.

Arizona hand lifted to Callie's waist, relishing in its softness. And, in response, Callie's hand found the back of her neck, fingers fisting blonde hair. Those pink lips were so smooth and supple against hers, and she felt herself getting wet instantly.

When Arizona pulled back an inch in search of air, Callie's mouth moved over her jaw, into the cave of her neck. "You always smell so good."

Arizona's eyes shut as she fell victim to the touch, her center beginning to throb. _How can Callie do this to me so quickly?_ she thought. Without thinking, she pulled Callie harder against her, wanting to feel that body against hers.

Finally, Callie pulled back, her eyes perusing Arizona's dewy face.

They turned back toward the view, watching the way the wheat sparkled as it blew in the breeze.

"I used to think about jumping from here."

Callie whipped her head around to face Arizona.

"From this bridge," Arizona clarified. "After I got back from the war."

Callie's voice was almost inaudible. "Things were that bad? You thought about…killing yourself?"

"Not realistically," Arizona assured her. "I mean, I never would've actually done it. But I thought about it."

Callie's eyes remained fixed on her face, unblinking.

Arizona shrugged, surrendering, "War is hard. Coming home can be even harder."

"I can't even imagine." Callie pursed her lips. "I'm really glad you stuck around, though."

Arizona offered a genuine smile. "Me, too."

* * *

As they headed back to the house, Arizona fell a few paces behind and watched Callie walk, her clothes clinging to her skin in the heat. The morning had turned sweltering and so humid that she felt as if she had just taken a shower.

Callie stopped and looked back, holding out her hand as she waited. "Am I walking too fast?" she worried.

"No," Arizona chuckled. "I just got distracted." _By your ass._ She accepted Callie's proffered hand and they continued walking side-by-side. "Oh! My parents wanted me to invite you to this barbecue they're having in a few weeks."

"Sounds fun," Callie clipped. "What's the occasion?"

Arizona bit her lip. "It'll be Tim's thirty-fifth birthday. My parents wanted to celebrate that—and to celebrate life by having fun with friends. You could invite your parents, too. My mom said they're welcome to come."

Callie made a face. "It would probably be better if I came without my parents."

Arizona knit her eyebrows together. "Why?"

Callie shrugged. "I don't know. I feel like our families were always polite to each other, but they weren't necessarily friends. They're just so different. Your parents—or at least your mom—are so soft and, like, _warm_. Mine have always been hard and cold."

"Your dad's not cold," Arizona argued.

"That's true," Callie conceded. "Not as cold as he pretends to be, anyway. But, I mean, come on. You've always been close to your parents. My parents aren't even close to each other. They don't even sleep in the same room."

"Oh, yeah." Arizona remembered Callie's house, how it had two master bedrooms. "They've always had separate bedrooms and bathrooms."

Callie laughed. "They say it's the secret to a happy marriage. But, if that's really what it takes, I don't think I even _want_ to get married."

"It's not like that for everyone," Arizona vowed. "My parents haven't slept apart in years. And—different as they are—I think they're their best selves together."

"_That's_ how a relationship should be."

They passed an orange grove and almond orchard and then finally made it back to Arizona's property, to the lake at its edge.

"You want to maybe hang out here for a few minutes?" Arizona prompted.

Callie nodded, and they settled onto the dock, lying on their stomachs and feeling the heat of the sun-cooked wood against their cheeks.

Arizona lifted a hand, her finger coming up to trace the bow of Callie's lips.

Callie's lips curled up and, playfully, she opened her mouth and caught Arizona's index finger between her teeth.

Arizona smiled in response and then reclaimed her hand as she ducked her head to mouth the scar on Callie's neck, circling it with her tongue. She pressed her body to Callie's, pushing her onto her back and coming to hover over her, blue eyes on brown.

Callie's hands buried under Arizona's shirt, her eyes fluttering shut when she felt that hot mouth on her neck again, those breasts rubbing against hers. "Arizona…"

Arizona pushed herself up with her hands, her hair forming a curtain around their faces. She gazed into those deep brown eyes and offered a cheeky grin. "Yes?" Before Callie could answer, she leaned back in, tonguing the skin below Callie's ear.

"_God_," Callie groaned. "You're going to kill me."

Pridefully, Arizona laughed, and the wash of warm breath against her neck made Callie shiver.

Callie grabbed Arizona by her hair, pulling her up, and crashed their lips together, their mouths immediately opening, trying to swallow more of each other. When their teeth clashed, Arizona chuckled, repositioning herself just enough to nibble Callie's bottom lip, pleased when it prompted those strong hands to move down and begin to gently massage her ass. She inhaled sharply, breathing in Arizona's scent, her sweet-smelling shampoo.

"What are you doing tonight?" Arizona asked, sucking on Callie's top lip.

"You?" Callie joked. Then, serious: "No, but really, I have no plans. You want to hang out?"

* * *

"So where exactly are you taking me?" Callie prompted at 7p.m. that evening as she sat in the passenger's seat of Arizona's truck.

Arizona grinned. "You'll see…"

"Why all the secrecy?" Callie countered. She pouted out her lower lip. "Please tell me?"

Arizona shook her head.

"Pleeease?"

"Nope," Arizona maintained. "Come on! It's a surprise. You _like_ surprises."

Callie made a face. "You know, sometimes it's inconvenient that you know me so well." Despite her guise of irritation, she reached over, dropping her palm onto Arizona's knee.

Arizona looked up at her and offered a quick smile. "It'll be worth it. Promise."

Then, finally, fifteen minutes later, Arizona pulled to the side of the highway, a trampled field acting as a parking lot for the amusement park just beyond it—the tiny one that traveled yearly from Florida all the way to New Mexico.

"Flamingoland!" Callie exclaimed, immediately recognizing the venue. Her mind suddenly flooded with memories: how she and Arizona used to go there every summer, pigging out on funnel cake and riding the bumper cars. "I totally forgot this place existed."

As they made their way toward it, Arizona linked their arms together. "We used to come every year. Everyone did, remember? It was like the biggest event of the summer." She laughed. "How crazy is that?"

Callie laughed with her. "It's pretty crazy. There are like four amusement parks within an hour of me in California. And they're huge and open year-round! Pretty different from this." In front of them was a small roller coaster—if you could call it that—a Ferris wheel, a bunch of booths for playing games, a singular food truck, and one of those spinning teacup rides. It was kind of pathetic-looking, and yet it was totally packed. Her eyebrows flew up. "I think it got worse than it used to be."

"No," Arizona argued, "you're just spoiled now with your fancy California beach boardwalks. But this place has character."

Callie bent over, attempting to inspect the Ferris wheel's foundation. "What it has is a bunch of code violations," she muttered, suddenly nervous.

Arizona swatted her on the arm. "Hey. Be nice."

With an apologetic smile, Callie reached for her hand. "Fine. How about I buy us some pizza?"

* * *

After Callie and Arizona finished eating, they continued sitting at one of the picnic tables, looking out at the action and listening to the campy carnival music.

After a few minutes of people-watching in silence, Arizona turned to Callie. "You ready to go on the Ferris wheel?"

"What?" Callie squawked, her voice cracking. "Are you crazy? No!"

Arizona offered her best puppy-dog eyes. "It would make me _really_ happy…"

"There's no way!" Callie maintained. "You know I'm scared of heights. I'll have a panic attack. My heart will start beating abnormally fast—which it already does around you—and so it'll really be beating doubly-abnormally fast and then it'll get tired and fail or something. Or the Ferris wheel will break and we'll fall and the carnies will bury us in the middle of the desert to avoid a lawsuit and no one will ever know what happened to us."

"What desert? There's no desert here."

"They'll put our bodies on ice and drive to Joshua Tree!" Callie insisted.

Arizona just laughed, and Callie scowled at her, insisting, "It could happen."

"It's not going to happen," Arizona argued, her voice kind. "And have some faith. I'll keep you safe."

Callie shook her head. "You won't be able to keep us safe when we're both plummeting to our deaths."

"Come on, Callie. I know you. You're a badass. And if you could handle climbing to the top of the water tower, you can do this."

Callie frowned. "I really, really am not in the mood to die today."

Arizona rolled her eyes. "No one's dying, you goof. Let's go." She reached for Callie's hand and led them toward the ride.

As they sat on the Ferris wheel's bench together, the safety thing locked over their legs, Arizona looked down at her hand—still clutched in Callie's. "Um, Callie?"

Callie's legs bounced up and down, her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of her imminent death.

Arizona smiled, somehow extremely endeared by Callie's nervousness. "Callie, I'm losing circulation, here."

"What?" Callie looked down at their hands and realized she was clutching Arizona's so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. "Oh." Quickly, she dropped Arizona's hand. "Sorry."

Beginning to get concerned about the anxiety she saw in Callie's eyes, Arizona offered, "Should we get off while we still have the chance?"

Callie was touched by the tenderness she heard in Arizona's voice but decided, "No. I'm good. Let's do it."

Arizona offered her hand out again, and Callie was happy to take it, careful not to squish those cream-colored fingers this time.

And then, suddenly, they were moving, heading for the stars as Callie shrieked and Arizona hooted and hollered with glee, enjoying the ride.

"Oh my god, oh my god!" Callie leaned over, hiding her face in Arizona's lap as they continued ascending toward the sky.

Arizona just stroked her hair in response, her own eyes focused on the world spreading out beneath them. When their car reached the top, the ride came to an abrupt stop, and Callie's head shot up in terror. "It's broken! Oh, no. We're going to be stuck here forever."

"It's not broken," Arizona insisted. Then—to make sure it really _wasn't_ broken—she looked down at the Ferris wheel operator. He grinned up at her and offered a wave. "Ah," she realized.

A line formed between Callie's brows. "What is it? Are we going to die?"

"No," Arizona vowed with a smile. "The guy down there thinks he's doing us a favor." She met Callie's confused eyes and clarified, "We looked pretty couple-y, I think. And a lot of couples think it's romantic to sit up here at the top and look down at the world and, often, make out."

"Oh," Callie realized. And, for the first time, she took a moment to actually look out at the world beneath her. The ground was _waaay_ too far away for comfort, but—she had to admit—it was beautiful. All the colorful amusement park lights blurred and blended together, and the crowds of local kids and teens and parents looked small as ants. "_Oh_," she breathed appreciatively.

Arizona smiled at her, gently squeezing that strong hand. "You okay?"

Callie nodded. "I can see how people might find this romantic."

Arizona's smile widened. "Yeah?"

"Mm-hm." Callie leaned toward her and pressed her lips to Arizona's. She immediately felt Arizona's mouth open against hers in response, warm breath shuddering out into her own mouth. The sound of it made Callie's stomach flutter, and she grabbed for Arizona's waist, arching her own back to press their torsos together.

"God," Arizona breathed. Callie's mouth was so warm, her lips so soft yet simultaneously insistent. She sucked on a full bottom lip, and Callie opened her mouth with a low moan. A sound that sent a surge of heat straight to Arizona's clit, and then her hands were moving up Callie's waist, over those soft breasts, wishing for less layers between them.

Without a warning, the ride then jerked back to life, jolting Callie and Arizona enough that Callie accidentally bit down on Arizona's lip, the blood immediately beginning to bead.

"Um, _ow_." Arizona pressed against her lip with her hand, the scent of blood suddenly making its way into her nostrils.

"Shoot," Callie worried. She pulled her long-sleeved shirt over her hand, attempting to dab at the blood. "I just totally killed the mood, huh?"

Arizona laughed. She sucked on her lip and tasted copper. "No. The Ferris wheel operator just has bad timing. Or maybe good timing," she corrected, "because I don't think the owners of this place would've wanted me tearing your clothes off on their ride. They might not find that kind of behavior appropriate."

"Appropriate, no," Callie agreed. "But I would've welcomed it."

Arizona chuckled, affectionately nudging Callie with her shoulder. Callie ducked her head in response, kissing blonde hair.

* * *

On the ride back to town, Callie fell asleep in the car, and so Arizona pulled over in front of the Torres's large house rather than taking Callie back to the orchard to grab her car.

Gently, she shook Callie's shoulder to wake her up. "Callie?"

Callie just grunted in response.

"Callie?" Arizona tried again, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. "You're home."

Callie opened her eyes, bleary with sleep. Discombobulated, she asked, "Where…where are we?"

Arizona smiled kindly. "Right in front of your house. I didn't want you to drive home so late at night. You can pick up your car tomorrow, okay?"

Beginning to regain her bearings, Callie stretched and then grabbed her purse from the floor of the truck. She smiled at Arizona, her hand instantly reaching for her shoulder. "Thank you for tonight."

Arizona searched her face. "You really had fun? I didn't traumatize you too badly with the Ferris wheel?"

Callie chuckled. "No, you didn't traumatize me. It was fun. Terrifying—mind you—but worth it."

Arizona ducked her head into her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss on the back of Callie's hand. "Good," she whispered. "I didn't want you to regret it."

"I definitely don't regret it," Callie vowed. She leaned in to give Arizona a final goodnight kiss. She pushed open the car door but, before she left, she turned back to Arizona, her elbows resting on the base of the cranked-open window. "You know, what I said before was true."

"That you have a phobia of beautiful women?" Arizona joked.

Callie's expression remained serious, and Arizona instantly sobered up, affected by Callie's solemn demeanor. "No, the other thing." She offered Arizona a gentle smile. "You make me brave."

* * *

**As always, thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think.**


	7. Chapter 7

On Sunday, Callie woke up late and spent the whole morning in bed, rereading Tony Kushner's _Angels in America_. Then, finally, around noon, she plodded downstairs for coffee and brunch.

From the kitchen bar, Lucia looked up. "You slept in."

Callie shrugged. "I was out late."

"With Arizona again?" Lucia asked. "Has it been nice to catch up with her?"

Callie couldn't stop the smile that bloomed on her face, just at the thought of Arizona. "Yeah. It's been great."

Lucia beamed. "Good. And, oh!" she remembered. "I just got an email from your sister. She says she's coming into town on Tuesday. Your father's happy. Better late than never, right? It'll be good to see her."

Callie forced a smile. "Oh. Yeah. That's…good."

"Calliope," Lucia chided, "we haven't seen Aria in a long time. And I know you've never gotten along _amazingly_, but you could at the very least pretend to be excited."

"It's not that I-" Callie stopped, and then tried again. "It's just…been a while since Aria and I have talked."

"So it's the perfect opportunity to catch up!" Lucia exclaimed. _Problem solved_.

Callie winced. She stuck a piece of bread into the toaster. "Yeah. I guess so."

* * *

Knowing that Arizona had plans with her parents, Callie opted to go on a walk after brunch. The sun was hot, the air thick as syrup, but still she enjoyed moving and the pastoral landscape that spread around her. Soon, she found herself striding through a field of wheat that smelled like heat and silt. As the wind blew, the stalks shimmered, and they reminded her of Arizona's flaxen hair. She kept walking, swatting at the clouds of gnats that made chaos of the summer air. She hated the bugs—true—but she also was beginning to realize how much she'd missed home. There was something about it that was so magical about it, in a small-towny kind of way.

And, more than that, it was magical because of Arizona. She knew that—if they hadn't reconciled—she would've been bored out of her mind, maybe. Certainly, she wouldn't have felt as good as she did.

* * *

"Oh, sweetheart, these look amazing!" Barbara exclaimed as she accepted the basket of peaches Arizona had brought her. "I'll make a peach cobbler with these!"

Arizona grinned. "And I'll _eat_ your peach cobbler." She strode over to where her father sat; he reading the newspaper on the living room's floral sofa, faded after so many years.

Daniel smiled up at her. "Morning, darlin'. Good to see you."

Arizona sat down, leaning over to leave a chaste peck on his cheek. She watched him blush the way he always did when she showed affection—his cheeks reddening, just like hers. "Morning, Dad."

Without a word, he handed her the cartoons section of the paper—a childhood tradition. "Here you go, my sweet. Saved the funnies for you."

* * *

That afternoon, Arizona was out picking ripe peaches in the orchard when Alex walked up behind her. "Hey."

Arizona turned with a start, almost losing her balance. "Alex! Don't _do_ that to people!"

Alex's eyes widened in mock-innocence. "What did I do?"

"You creeped up behind me like a creepy creep!" Arizona managed to articulate.

"Sorry," Alex laughed in a way that revealed he wasn't at all sorry.

Arizona crossed her arms. "What do you want, Karev?"

Alex shrugged, attempting to play his sincerity off. "Nothin'. I just…hadn't seen you in a while and wanted to check in."

At that, Arizona dimpled. "Did you miss me?"

"_No_," Alex answered—a little too quickly. "Look, whatever. I'm gonna go." He turned around.

"No! Alex!" Laughing, Arizona hurried to catch up with him. She reached for his arm. "I'm happy to see you. Come on. Let me get you a beer."

* * *

Sitting on Arizona's front porch steps with a beer in hand, Alex prompted, "So tell me: have you done the dirty deed yet?" He wiggled his brows suggestively.

"Perv."

Alex laughed. "Am not. You love telling me about your sexcapades. Always have."

Arizona blushed. "Do not."

"So…" Alex tried again. "Have you hooked up?"

Arizona bit her lip. "Not yet—not in the sense you mean, anyway."

"What?" Alex looked at her in disbelief. "You're lying. You just don't want to tell me about it."

Arizona shook her head, admitting, "I'm not lying."

"Come on! You were a softball player. It should be easy for you to get a home run."

Arizona rolled her eyes. "No home run yet. And, for the record, when it does happen, I'm not going to want to tell you about it."

Alex offered a boyish scowl. "You're no fun. You usually tell me."

Arizona took a swig of her beer, conceding, "I usually do a lot of things differently."

Alex smirked at her. "Yeah, like you usually would've hooked up by now."

Arizona covered her face with her hands "I know, I know."

Alex laughed. "What's the hold-up, then? You scared it won't be as good as you remember it?"

Arizona frowned at him.

"I'm serious!" Alex defended. He worked to maintain a neutral expression. "No, really, I'm being serious. Is that what you're scared of?"

Arizona shook her head. "No." She sighed. "I want her so much I can barely breathe. I'm sure the sex would be good. More than good."

"_Would_ be?" Alex pressed. "Or will be?"

Arizona met his eyes. "She's going to leave again."

Alex shrugged. "So give her a reason to stay."

Arizona laughed sarcastically. "Right. Easier said than done. Would you leave California for this?"

"I bet she'd leave California for you," Alex insisted. "I would."

Arizona gave him a teasing smile. "You can be really sweet sometimes, you know that?"

Alex offered a crooked smile. "Yeah. But don't tell anyone."

* * *

Indeed, Arizona was scared of Callie leaving—which would likely happen at the end of the summer, she knew—but that wasn't the only thing that scared her.

She was walking along the gravel road, hoping the movement and scenery would allow her to think. The prairie air was hot, and she wiped the sweat from her brow as she made her way toward the water tower.

_Yes_, she realized,_ I'm scared of Callie leaving. And, with that, I'm scared of being heartbroken and never wanting anyone ever again and dying alone with no one and nothing._

And then there was the fear of being vulnerable—something she always feared, even with one-night-stands. It always felt a little scary to expose herself to someone, physically or emotionally—and, in particular, physically _and_ emotionally. She knew that, baring herself to Callie inevitably came with an unspoken plea: _Take me. Want me as I am. Want me even with my mountain of flaws_.

And Callie knew her flaws well. Better than anyone, maybe, in the same way that she knew Callie's.

_But there's one she doesn't know well_, she reminded herself as she stared out at the town that spread out below her, her feet flat on the roof of the water tower.

There was one part of her that Callie wasn't yet familiar with. And Arizona was hovering halfway between wanting Callie to become familiar with it and wanting to run for the hills and never, ever return.

So, fine. She was moving slow because she was scared.

* * *

That evening, Callie smiled when she saw Arizona's name pop up on her phone. She picked it up. "Hey."

"Hey," Arizona breathed. "Are you busy?"

Callie looked at the piles of books scattered around her. It was only seven, but already she was in her pajamas. "Definitely not busy."

"Good." Callie could hear the smile in Arizona's voice. "You know that old barn at the edge of the orchard? Meet me there."

Callie's eyebrows flew up. "Okay…"

Arizona chuckled at the trepidation in Callie's voice. "I'll see you soon."

* * *

Half an hour later, Callie opened the barn door and ducked her head inside. "Arizona?"

"Over here," Arizona verbalized from her spot on the ground, lying on her back and facing the ceiling.

Curious, Callie strode over to her. "Um, hi…?"

Arizona patted the spot beside her, the whole barn floor cushioned with straw and hay.

Obediently, Callie lowered herself to the ground and lay on her back beside Arizona.

Arizona raised her arm, pointing in the direction of the ceiling. "Look."

"What?" Callie asked.

Arizona didn't answer, her blue eyes remaining focused on the air above her.

Following her lead, Callie looked up, trying to figure out what exactly Arizona was looking at. And, then, a few seconds later, she saw them: the sunrays sneaking past the wooden slats of the roof illuminated hundreds of dust motes. They floated in the air, looking like sparkles, or tiny stars. "Wow."

Arizona turned her head to gaze at Callie's profile. She smiled. "I'm glad you hurried over. It only looks like this at golden hour."

Callie lifted her arm, waving it around overhead in an effort to disrupt the dust. She and Arizona watched as it twirled in its new trajectory, a tornado of specks above their heads.

"This is really pretty," Callie decided. A moment later, she turned toward Arizona. "How were your parents?"

"They were good. Alex stopped by, too. What did you do today?"

"Not much," Callie admitted. "Slept in. Went for a walk. Did some reading. I've decided I want to write a book soon, so I'm searching for inspiration."

Arizona's eyes widened. "You're writing a book? About what?"

"I don't know yet," Callie admitted with a laugh. "It's something I've been wanting to do for a long time, though. And, you know, now that I'm over thirty, I figure I better get started soon."

"We're still young," Arizona assured her with a chuckle. "You have lots of time."

Callie smiled. "I know. But I don't know. I've really wanted to do some writing lately. Maybe you're my muse," she joked.

Arizona grinned. "It would be an honor." As she looked back up toward the dust motes, her hand brushed against Callie's, and she instantly felt her stomach tingle at the sensation, small as the touch was.

Callie looked back up, too, though—at her side—she lifted her pinky over Arizona's, locking their fingers together.

And then, right away, she felt those blue eyes intent on her face. The feeling alone was enough to make her cheeks flush, even as she refused to look back. She felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips.

Arizona entwined their hands fully, bringing them up to her lips to kiss Callie's.

Callie trembled. That warm breath against her skin…

With a little laugh—prideful, despite herself—Arizona shifted onto her hands and knees, her body coming up to hover above Callie's. Her eyes perused Callie's face: her dewy skin, the sweat on her brow, her eyes so dark she could almost see her own reflection in them. Those lips. So full and so soft. Without thinking, she leaned down, capturing that bottom lip between her own.

Callie stifled a moan, her hands instantly coming up to a lithe waist, pulling just enough to urge Arizona to come closer and settle her weight onto her.

Arizona immediately obliged, eliminating the space between their bodies as she fell between Callie's thighs, their breasts and abdomens flush, lips never ceasing contact.

Callie's lips parted and, this time, she wasn't able to hold back her moan as she got a better taste of Arizona. Her mouth, her tongue…

Arizona wasn't sure if she felt Callie's heartbeat or her own heart pulsing in her chest—all she knew was it beat fast and hard as a drum. All she knew was that it was overwhelming, the quickening pulse. She reached for the nape of Callie's neck, demanding continued contact, her breath coming out in a rush.

"Arizona…" Callie breathed, feeling a sharp pelvis press against her. Her legs bent at the knee, her lips brushing across Arizona's warm cheek.

Arizona buried her face in Callie's neck, tonguing that old scar, wanting to devour that tan skin that was so salty and sweet and uniquely _Callie_.

Callie arched her head back as Arizona's lips latched to the column of her neck, mouth suctioning against her skin. And then, suddenly filled with an animal urgency, she pulled Arizona's face back up to hers, lips meeting in a sloppy kiss.

After another minute, Arizona could feel herself beginning to get carried away, so she forced herself to pull back, leaning away from Callie as she worked to catch her breath, Callie panting beneath her.

Callie's hands ran up and down her sides, her eyes shut as she attempted to control her uneven breathing. When she opened her eyes, she realized the day had dimmed immensely in the last several minutes. It was dark then—dark enough that she could barely make out Arizona's features, could only see the whites of her eyes, her well-shaped brows.

Even in the darkness, it was still hot out. When Arizona reclaimed her place beside her—rather than on top of her—Callie suddenly felt cold, sweat revealing itself in every place they had touched. She shivered.

Arizona offered her a soft smile.

Self-conscious, Callie's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

Arizona shrugged, blushing before she even got the words out. "Kissing you is a unique and unparalleled pleasure."

Callie laughed. "Oh. Well, I could say the same for you." She reached for Arizona's hand, her whole body still vibrating.

"You want to come to the house for a bit? I have cold Coke."

"Yes," Callie answered immediately, her mouth instantly watering at the offer of something cold to drink.

Arizona laughed. "I was hoping that might tempt you. Let's go."

* * *

Letting the screen door slam behind her, Arizona walked toward the porch swing where Callie was sitting. She handed her a bottle of Coke. "Do you still like salted peanuts in yours?" she asked, holding up a small bag of nuts.

"Yes!" Callie exclaimed. She took the proffered bag and poured a few nuts into the bottle's narrow spout, watching the Coke bubble as it reacted with the salt. "All my friends in California thinks I'm crazy when I do this."

Arizona laughed, pouring some nuts into her own bottle. "It's a Southern delicacy." She took a swig, relishing in the taste.

"There's really nothing like it," Callie mused. Mouth full, she let out a little hum as she patted her thighs. "You want to stretch your legs out?"

Arizona shifted her position, able then to see Callie's face without craning her neck, relishing in her thighs on Callie's, them seated so close to each other. Callie rested her bottle on the blonde's shin, and Arizona was grateful for the cool feel of it.

With no light but what streamed through the house's windows, Callie's eyes remained fixed on Arizona's glowing face. She released an uneven breath. "You're so, so beautiful."

Arizona's eyes widened, her stomach doing flips at the sincerity in Callie's voice. She tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear, fingers lingering by her jaw. She couldn't help but lean in and press her lips to a tan cheek.

Callie turned her head into the gesture, capturing Arizona's lips in a kiss instead.

And, well, Arizona wasn't going to complain. Her fingers wove into Callie's hair while Callie's hands found the hem of her t-shirt, searching for smooth ivory skin.

Callie's thumbs traced a flat abdomen, a ribcage, moving up toward full breasts, so soft against her hands, even through a bra.

Arizona's mouth fell open at the touch, her breath loudly shuddering out.

Callie's lips moved over her jaw, her own breathing suddenly uneven—especially when Arizona mirrored her actions, cupping her breasts, squeezing her nipples through her bra and shirt. "Arizona," she breathed, "do you want to…" She mouthed the hollow of Arizona's throat.

"I do," Arizona panted out. "I do. Just…" She trailed off, then pulled back, her hands stilling, wanting to look Callie in the eyes. "I do," she vowed. "Just not tonight."

Callie inhaled a long breath, attempting to reign in her hunger. She offered a kind smile. "Okay."

Arizona bit her lip. "Do you, um, want to go inside? We could…watch a movie or something?"

Callie nodded. "Sure."

Inside, Callie sat on the couch, her knees bouncing, while Arizona looked through her DVDs for something to watch. "How about _Back to the Future_?" she suggested.

"A classic," Callie grinned. "Good choice."

Arizona inserted the disc into the player, grabbed the remote, and plopped down beside Callie—so close that their thighs touched.

As the movie began to play and Arizona leaned forward to set the remote down on the coffee table, Callie took a risk and moved her arm out to the side.

When Arizona leaned back, she felt that arm behind her and tilted her head enough to rest on Callie's shoulder, silently letting her know she appreciated the contact.

Callie's arm curled around her, pulling her closer. "I have a question."

Suddenly nervous, Arizona froze, her eyes unblinking.

Reassuringly, Callie's thumb stroked up and down her narrow waist, eyes still focused on the screen. "Well, it's not really a question. More of a…judgment? Assumption?"

"Oh, no," Arizona muttered, leaning forward to grab the remote and pause the movie.

"You don't have t-"

The room now silent, only lit by the muted light of the TV, Arizona focused on Callie. "You have a judgment?"

"That's the wrong word," Callie regretted. "I just, um, I'm curious about something."

Arizona bit her lip.

"It's not bad," Callie vowed with a smile. She dropped her hand to Arizona's knee. "It's just…I mean, I was just thinking that…well, this might be assumptive of me, but you…seem like the kind of person who usually does it earlier."

"Wait, what?" Arizona's eyebrows furrowed. "Does what?"

"You know." Callie rolled her eyes at herself, blushing a little. "_It_."

"Oh," Arizona breathed. "_That_." Sex. _Of course._

Callie nodded. "Yes. _That_. I get the feeling that you usually move pretty quickly. But, we haven't-." She paused. "Is _that_…something you might be interested in doing? With me?"

Arizona couldn't help but chuckle a little. _Is she kidding?_ "I did say I wanted to earlier," she reminded Callie.

"But we don't have to," Callie quickly backtracked. "I mean, if you don't want to, we don't have to. We could-"

"Callie," Arizona interrupted with a laugh. Callie looked up, her eyes wide and cautious. "I want to" she vowed. "I've _been_ wanting to. How could I not?" She felt her cheeks flush.

"Okay," Callie breathed, relieved that she hadn't read the signals wrong. It would be fine, she knew, to just be friends with Arizona, but she wanted so much more.

"I just…" Arizona looked down, her voice suddenly small. "I don't want to scare you away."

Callie's eyebrows furrowed, a ravine appearing between them. "What? How?"

Arizona didn't answer, her eyes on her legs.

"Oh," Callie exhaled. "Because of your leg?" She paused. "But you've…hooked up with women since the Army, haven't you?"

"Of course I have," Arizona assured her. "But it's different with you," she insisted. "You knew me before…this."

Callie gave her a solemn look, meeting clouded blue eyes. "That doesn't affect how much I want you now."

"How can it not? You knew me back when I was whole. Now I'm missing parts." She gestured toward her prosthesis. "My leg's _gone_. And you know about the nightmares, but…they're worse than you think." She chuckled humorlessly. "I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep through the night again. It's been years of this."

Callie's voice went quiet. "I didn't know they were that bad."

"I…don't want to scare you off," Arizona continued, "_again_. You already disappeared once after having sex with me." She tried to smile, to let Callie know she was joking—sort of.

But Callie remained serious. "I'm done running from how much I want you." She reached for Arizona's hand. "Honestly, the only thing that scares me now is missing my chance to see where this goes."

Reluctantly, Arizona met her eyes. "You say that now…" she warned.

"I mean it. And I'll keep meaning it." Then, Callie paused, thinking. "I have another question. If we weren't to take a chance and see where this goes, what would you do? This summer, I mean. This _year_. The rest of your life. What would you do?"

Arizona shrugged. "What I always do, I guess. Pick peaches. Visit my parents. Hang out with Alex. I don't know. I'd survive."

Callie pursed her lips, her voice a whisper. "I think you deserve more than mere survival."

Arizona felt a pinch behind her eyes.

Callie offered a small smile. "And I'm glad we're moving slow—I want you to know I didn't bring this up to pressure you. Moving slow is good. It proves that this is different."

"It _is_ different," Arizona insisted. "It's always been different, between you and me."

"It has," Callie agreed. "But I'm not a faint-hearted eighteen-year-old anymore. I won't run away this time. So if we-"

"_When_," Arizona corrected. "_When_ we." She wanted Callie to know that she was, unequivocally, on board for taking their relationship further. Without a doubt, she wanted to do _it_. At some point. And ideally sooner rather than later.

"_When_," Callie amended with a smile. "_When_ it happens, I'm not going to disappear on you again." She raised Arizona's hand to her lips and kissed it reverentially. "I promise."

Arizona smirked. "You know, we were both virgins back then. For a second, I thought you might've disappeared on me because I was so disappointingly bad at sex."

"Hardly," Callie scoffed. "I remember you being extremely skilled with your tongue." The memory alone electrified her.

"I've always been eager to please," Arizona joked, bumping Callie's shoulder with hers.

"Yeah, _literally_," Callie added, easily falling into their banter.

"So should we actually watch this movie now?" Arizona suggested. "I don't really want you to leave yet."

Callie pressed play and _Back to the Future_ came on again.

Arizona snuggled closer, her arm hugging Callie's back. "It'll be late when this is over," she realized. "Do you want to, maybe, sleep over? I have lots of pajamas and a spare toothbrush."

Callie looked at her, her eyes bright. "Yeah. I do."

* * *

**As always, thank you so much for reading, and please let me know what you thought of this chapter!**

**Also: My Tumblr was hacked last year, but if you want to keep up with me / remind me to update, you can find me on instagram dbouts. Forgive all the selfies. I'm a Leo.**


	8. Chapter 8

**All right, all. So sorry for the delay! With grad school and three jobs and, like, relationships to maintain, writing fanfic can't be a priority (as much as I wish it could be!). Anyway, thank you all so much for your patience. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.**

* * *

Arizona shot up in bed, her breath coming out in a pant, her heart hammering in her chest. Another bad dream: hitting the landmine, the mushroom cloud of smoke, the shock of pain, her head yanked back by the force of the bomb. The following few days that she still couldn't remember. The news from her C.O.: two comrades dead.

Then, she looked to her left and saw Callie by her side, fast asleep, and remembered she wasn't alone. She exhaled a breath, relieved she hadn't awoken the raven-haired beauty, and swung her legs to the side of the bed, expertly attaching her prosthesis before making her way into the adjoining bathroom.

Standing in front of the sink, she gazed at her face in the mirror: bedraggled hair, bloodshot eyes that made her look almost haunted. _Maybe I am,_ she thought. Memories of the war haunted her. That day. The landmine. The fact that those deaths may have been her fault.

She splashed water over her face, a meager attempt at washing away the memories that consumed her.

When she opened the door a minute later, prepared to tip-toe back to bed, she found the room illuminated by a lamp, Callie awake and facing her.

"Oh," Arizona breathed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Callie's eyes were fixed on her face, her expression concerned. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Arizona nodded, almost imperceptibly. She plodded toward the bed and sat down.

Realizing that Arizona likely didn't want her to watch as she removed her prosthesis, Callie shut off the lamp on the bedside table and lay back, giving Arizona a little privacy.

A minute later, Arizona lay beside her, turned toward Callie. In the darkness, she couldn't see anything, but she felt Callie mirror her position to face her, felt warm breath wash against her face. "It's really late," she regretted in a whisper. "Will you be able to fall back asleep okay?"

"Will you?" Callie countered. "I mean, you just had a bad dream. Are you okay? What can I do to help?"

Arizona shrugged. "Nothing. It takes time, but I always manage to fall back asleep eventually. Don't worry about me. Just go back to sleep."

Callie shook her head—Arizona heard the rhythmic rustling against the pillow. "I'm not going to sleep until you can."

Arizona scoffed, half-annoyed and half-endeared. "Callie."

Callie stood her ground. "What?"

"You don't have to make a big deal about this," Arizona insisted. "This is just part of my daily life."

"Lately, _I've_ been part of your daily life," Callie reminded her. "So I guess you have to adjust to the reality that, if I'm here, I'm going to want to try to make you feel better." In the darkness, she felt brave, and she reached out, pleased when she touched the feathery blonde hair she'd been aiming for.

Arizona melted into the touch, her eyes falling shut in response to Callie's hand smoothing back her hair, soothed by the steady rhythm of her breaths.

"You know," Callie offered, "when I used to have all those public speaking anxiety dreams in high school, you always let me call you in the middle of the night, and that helped."

A smile tugged at Arizona's lips. "I didn't get a full night of sleep the whole two weeks before the _Romeo and Juliet _shows."

Callie chuckled, her hand still on Arizona's hair. "I know. And I probably shouldn't have called you so consistently, but you always knew how to make me feel better."

"I was happy to help," Arizona vowed.

It was quiet for a moment, and then Callie asked, "So how can I help you?"

Arizona remained quiet for a minute. Even in the darkness, she could feel Callie's intense eyes on her. Slowly, she slid her hand up to Callie's waist, just resting it there. She inhaled her scent, then sighed out a long breath. "This helps."

Callie furrowed her eyebrows. "What does?"

Arizona shut her eyes, a hint of a smile gracing her lips. "You."

* * *

The following afternoon, Arizona was at her parents' house, reading Marilyn Hacker's poetry collection, when she heard the screen door creak on its hinges. She looked up and saw her mom, stepping toward her with a glass of sweet tea. "I thought you might be getting thirsty out here, so I whipped up a little tea. It's unbearable out here."

Grateful, Arizona accepted the glass and took a sip. She wiped the sweat from her face and smiled. "I know. It's kind of disgusting." She felt her legs sticking to the chair.

Barbara chuckled as she sat beside her. "How are you doing, darlin'?"

"I'm good," Arizona promised. "How about you?"

Barbara shrugged. "Can't complain. It's a gorgeous day, and I've got my favorite girl right here with me."

Arizona blushed, nuzzling her head into her mom's shoulder. "Love you."

"Now: when are you going to bring Callie around to see us?"

Arizona leveled a look at her. "Oh, so that's why you really came out here," she joked.

Barbara chuckled. "That's part of it. How about you invite her over for dinner tonight?"

"Really?"

"Sure," Barbara smiled. "Your father's barely used the grill this summer—he can grill us up some veggie kabobs or something. And I can find out about what Callie's been up to these last twelve years."

"Mom!" Arizona exclaimed. "No interrogating."

Barbara laughed. "Fine. Ask her if she'll come, though. You know we'd love to see her."

* * *

That evening, Arizona's truck idled in front of Callie's parents' sprawling lawn, her air conditioning up so high it was almost deafening.

She watched Callie come out, shut the door behind her, and hurry toward the truck, her hair turning to chaos in the breeze.

Callie opened the door. "Hey."

Arizona couldn't help but smile. "Hey."

Callie paused—not yet making a move to get into the car. "Um." She bit her lip, her hand coming up to fluff her hair. "Do I…look okay?"

Arizona's eyes roved over her: her thick sex-hair, her curled lashes, her red lips. Those wonderfully hip-hugging jeans. "Uh, _yeah_," she laughed, as if saying _Obviously!_ "You look good."

Callie's lips curled up, her cheeks slightly flushing, and she finally sat down in the passenger's seat, slamming the car door shut behind her. She turned to Arizona. "I want them to like me."

"They already know you," Arizona reminded her, shifting into gear. "They've known you for years and years."

"I know," Callie pouted. "But it's been a long time. And, this time, I want them to, you know, like me with you."

"As much as I've tried to hide it, they know I adore you, so they'll adore you, too."

Callie looked up, her expression teasing. "You _adore_ me?"

Arizona scrunched up her nose. "No," she lied, her voice almost puerile.

Callie laughed, reaching for her hand. "Hey, believe me, you're not alone in that."

* * *

"It'll be great," Arizona promised in a whisper as she pushed open her parents' screen door. "Mom? Dad? We're here."

"Comin'!" Barbara strode into the entryway, wiping her wet hands on her apron. "Daniel! Come welcome Callie to our home!" she called behind her.

Callie plastered a smile on her face, instantly nervous.

"It's so nice to see you again, Callie," Barbara smiled, her arms reaching up to wrap Callie in a hug.

Callie hugged her back, and the woman's warmth assuaged her anxiety—just a little.

"Callie Torres," Daniel hemmed, coming into the room.

Callie gulped. "Hello, sir."

He offered a stiff nod. "It's good to see you." He turned to Arizona, kissing her cheek. "Hi, sweetness."

Arizona shone at him. "Hi, Dad."

The two couples faced each other from a few feet apart in silence, just a mess of awkward smiles.

Finally, Callie offered, "Your home's even more beautiful than I remember it, Mrs. Robbins."

Barbara waved off the formality. "Oh, forget that 'missus' stuff. We're all adults now. You can just call me Barb. And you can call Daniel 'Daniel.'"

"Well-" her husband started to argue.

Barbara raised an eyebrow at him. "What? You going to make her call you _The Colonel_ again? You're retired, Daniel."

"That's true," he grumbled, and Callie and Arizona smiled.

"Dinner's almost ready—except for the grilling. How about we all sit outside while Daniel gets all that done?"

Callie nodded. "Sure." She and Arizona followed behind Barbara, sitting down at the patio table outside, under the shade of a flowering jacaranda. Under the table, Arizona reached for Callie's hand.

"So, Callie," Barbara began, "how are you enjoying being back home?"

"I'm liking it a lot," Callie assured her. "I didn't realize, until I came back, how much I missed all the pastures and stars and farms and…people."

"And how long are you planning on staying?" Barbara pressed.

Arizona stiffened.

Briefly looking toward her, Callie squeezed her hand in hers, wanting to reassure her as best she could. "Uh, I don't have all that totally figured out yet. I know I'll be here through August. Beyond that, it kind of depends."

Barbara nodded, watching the way Arizona looked down at her finger tracing patterns against the glass table. "Arizona said you're an English teacher in California. I'm sure the high school here would be glad to have you, if you opted to stay."

Callie bit her lip. "I'd have to look into it."

Barbara smiled. "I have an old friend on the schoolboard. I could put in a good word for you."

"Mom," Arizona warned, locking eyes with her mother. "Can you not pressure Callie, please?"

Offering a chuckle in an attempt to diffuse the tension, Callie reached up to rest her hand on Arizona's back. "Arizona, it's fine. Your mom's right—it's something I need to think about."

"All right, folks," Daniel offered a minute later, striding over with a tray of chicken and vegetable kabobs, the salad and roasted potatoes already on the table. "Dinner's ready."

"It smells great," Callie complimented as he set down the food in the middle of the table.

Daniel sat beside Barbara, setting down his paper napkin on his lap. He gestured toward the food. "Callie, you go ahead and serve yourself first—you're the guest."

Callie began to serve herself, and Barbara asked, "Are you a vagetarian, too?"

"What?" Callie's head shot up, her cheeks instantly flushing.

"Arizona doesn't eat meat," Barbara clarified. "Are you a vagetarian?"

_Oh. Vegetarian_, Callie realized, laughing to herself. _It's just the Southern accent_. "Yeah, mostly. I eat fish, sometimes."

"I read on the internet that it's part of gay culture." Barbara grinned, obviously feeling hip in her knowledge of supposed _gay culture_.

"How's your father recovering, Callie?" Daniel asked as he served himself some salad.

Callie looked up at him. "Oh, he's doing well. Slowly getting his strength back. He's exercising more than he has in years—by which I mean he's been walking around the block every day, and that's it." She laughed.

Daniel offered a fatherly smile. "That's good to hear."

Callie nudged Arizona. "You should come by soon, by the way. He thinks you're the best."

Arizona made a face, muttering, "Your mother doesn't, though."

Callie rolled her eyes at her mother. "She doesn't like anyone. She's just old-fashioned and didn't like that you wore—_gasp!_—pants in high school."

"It's the twenty-first century!"

Barbara waved off the issue. "Don't take it personally, darlin'. You know we live in a sometimes-backwards place. If it weren't for you educating me, I might still have strict notions of gender and gender roles, too."

Arizona grinned at her mom. "You've come so far."

Callie dropped her left hand to Arizona's knee and turned to Barbara and Daniel. "I missed your family. You've always had such a good dynamic." On the surface, they were the image of the perfect All-American Family—down to the blonde hair. Underneath, it was more complicated—Daniel's stoicism, Arizona's disability, Timothy's absence—but, nevertheless, the family unit was so _functional_. Callie envied the closeness, the trust, the lack of secrets.

Barbara tucked her hair behind her ear. "Well, we've missed you, too. Twelve years is a long time to run away."

Callie winced, hearing the hint of an accusation in Barbara's voice: she knew Callie had hurt her daughter.

But—recovering from her momentary disappointment in her daughter's childhood friend and love interest—Barbara then offered a gentle smile. "You're welcome to stop by anytime."

* * *

Around nine, Callie and Arizona said their goodbyes to Arizona's parents and strode hand-in-hand to the truck. Inside, Arizona raised an eyebrow in Callie's direction. "You want to take a little fieldtrip?"

"Always."

Arizona laughed. "Okay, good. Because tonight's the best night to see the stars."

Callie's stomach flip-flopped. "_Awww_. You're so adorably sappy."

Arizona blushed. "Shut up."

"I'm serious!" Callie laughed. "You used to play yourself off to be such a badass."

"Hey, _I_ was never a badass," Arizona maintained. "You were the one who always intimidated everyone."

Callie scoffed. "I was the one sitting in the back of the class, eating my hair."

"_Okay_—that never happened. Don't even pretend. I know you, Callie Torres. Always have. Don't forget it."

Callie's lips turned up, levity turning to sincerity. "You do know me," she agreed. "And I know you."

They drove to the top of the hill—the only hill around for miles—and Arizona pulled over on the side of the dirt road. Shutting the doors behind them, Callie and Arizona walked out onto the grass, their shoulders bumping against each other as they moved. They heard nothing but the steady cicadasong and the sound of their steps trampling the grass.

"This is the most amazing grass I've ever seen," Callie mused. "It's like walking on pillows—something out of a Dr. Seuss book or something."

"I know," Arizona agreed. "Whatever kind of grass grows here, it's always so long and lush. Just on this hill, though—it's weird."

Callie craned her neck back, looking up at the sky, and Arizona offered, "We could lie down, if you want. I don't sense any bugs here."

"Sure," Callie smiled. "But, if something bites me, I'm holding you responsible."

"If something bites you, I'll kiss it and make it better."

"Great," Callie joked. "Now suddenly I'm hoping bugs will attack me."

Arizona laughed. "Don't do that. I'll kiss you, regardless."

They lowered themselves onto the grass and lay on their backs, their eyes on the twinkling stars.

Conversationally: "So, tell me, why is tonight the best night to see the stars?"

"It's a new moon," Arizona hummed. "The sky is darker than usual—at least from where we are. There are more stars now than there were last time we came up here, aren't there?"

Callie nodded. Then, abruptly, she slapped at her arm. "Ow."

Arizona's brows knitted together. "What's wrong?"

Callie brought her palm up to her face—close enough to see the squashed mosquito, smudged with her own blood. "Gross." She wiped her hand against that lush grass above her head.

Arizona was staring at her. "What happened?"

Callie pouted out her lower lip. "A mosquito bit me." She held her arm out, allowing it to hover over Arizona's face. "You promised."

Arizona reached out, her hands cradling Callie's arm and lifting it toward her lips. "Where'd it bite you?"

"I don't know," Callie murmured absentmindedly, her eyes fixed to Arizona's lips, so close to her own skin. "Does it matter?"

Arizona chuckled, her warm breath washing over Callie's arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "I guess not." She lowered that arm to her lips, puckering to give it a quick peck. _Kiss_. She turned to Callie. "Better?"

Callie shook her head. "Not yet."

Arizona brushed her lips across Callie's arm again, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin. _Kiss. Kiss. Kiss._ "How about now?"

"You know," Callie joked, "I think something bit my lip just now." Callie turned onto her side.

Arizona's eyes narrowed. "Is that so?" She turned toward Callie, their faces inches apart.

Callie nodded. "_Very hard_," she bantered. "It might take a lot for it to feel better."

Arizona brushed raven hair away from Callie's face, her hand lingering—she wanted to maintain contact, and her thumb caressed Callie's cheek, moved down to her jaw…

Callie's eyes fell shut, her breath faltering under the touch. She dropped her hand on the curve of Arizona's waist, wanting to pull her closer.

Arizona gazed at Callie's face. After twelve years, she didn't even want to blink—she didn't want to miss a second of watching her: the flutter of her lashes, the minute movements of her lips. "You make it impossible to appreciate the stars."

Callie's eyes opened, a line forming between her brows.

But Arizona didn't offer an explanation—only a small smile as she looked into those black eyes, the light of the stars reflected in her irises. She leaned in closer, capturing Callie's full bottom lip between hers, holding in a groan at her taste.

Instantly, Callie's grip tightened on Arizona's waist, pulling their bodies closer. She dipped her tongue into a warm mouth, shuddering at the feeling.

After another minute, Arizona pulled back, out of breath. "Well?" she joked, her tone expectant. "Did it help? I know you made it up, but let's pretend. Did I lessen your pain?" She offered a playful smile, her cheeks dimpling.

Callie swallowed the lump in her throat—the realization that, yes, Arizona had lessened her pain. She lessened it with every moment they spent together. "Yeah," she breathed. "I'm all better."

Arizona grinned, leaning in to peck Callie's lips once more. _Kiss_. "Good."

* * *

An hour later, they drove back down the hill, inching along the deserted roads toward Callie's parents' house. Arizona shifted into 'park,' letting the truck idle at the curb. "You want to do something tomorrow?"

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes," Callie answered immediately. "Oh." She paused. _Shit_. "My sister was supposed to come into town today. My parents will probably want us to all do something together."

Arizona's eyebrows flew up. "Aria's here?"

Callie nodded. "She should be. Thankfully, you saved me from having to pick her up from the airport with my mom."

"Thankfully?" Arizona pressed, obviously curious.

Callie shrugged. "You know we've always been different. Our whole lives. She was in, you know, a _sorority_ in college. She married a former frat boy who works in finance in New York City."

"Yeah, she's definitely different from you."

Callie chuckled. "I know. And, like, that's fine. I don't mind it. The last time we saw each other, it was just awkward. And we haven't talked since. So I'm nervous to see her."

Arizona's voice was gentle. "What happened?" She reached for Callie's hand.

Callie rolled her eyes. "It's dumb."

Arizona brought Callie's hand up to her lips. "Nothing you feel is dumb."

"She…saw me with an ex-girlfriend," Callie began, "back when she was my current girlfriend, I mean. We were downtown, on our way to see a movie at Westfield, and Aria was in town. We were supposed to see each other the next day, but I guess she was out shopping that night. She saw us kiss, and then she froze and just ran away. I tried to follow her…" She trailed off.

"And you haven't talked since?"

Callie shook her head.

"At all?"

Callie bit her bottom lip. "I tried to call a few times, but she never called back. So that's that."

"I'm sorry, Cal." Arizona watched Callie carefully, eyes fixed to her face. "I hope you're able to talk while she's here. That you can repair everything."

"Me, too." Callie made a face. "At least I won't have to deal with it tonight, though." She nodded toward her darkened house. "Looks like everyone's sleeping."

Arizona nodded. "Come see me when you get a chance, okay? I want to hear how things go."

"I will," Callie promised. She leaned in, pressing her lips to Arizona's. She felt her heart ricochet in her chest. Regretfully, she pulled away. "Bye."

She opened the car door and had begun to make her way up the walkway when she heard Arizona behind her.

"Callie."

Callie turned around to see Arizona holding her sweater.

"You forgot this."

Callie smiled as she strode over. "Thanks."

Arizona's expression mirrored hers. "Anytime."

Unable to help herself, Callie leaned in again, her arms snaking around Arizona's waist and pulling their bodies flush together. When Arizona wrapped her arms around Callie's neck, their lips still locked, Callie lifted her off the ground, loving the thrilled squeal the action earned her.

Callie pulled back, laughing. "Okay, I probably should go."

"You probably should," Arizona regretted.

Callie kissed her cheek. "I really do adore you, you know. Thanks for tonight."

After Arizona pulled away in her truck, Callie turned back to the house, pausing at the front door to take out her key. Knowing the rest of her family was likely asleep, she was careful to shut it quietly behind her. In the living room, a lamp was still on, and she headed toward it to turn it off.

"So."

Callie jumped in surprise, her hand instinctively covering her heart. Once she felt her mind begin to work again, her eyes focused on Aria, seated on the couch with her arms crossed. "Aria," she sighed. "I…didn't see you."

"So," Aria repeated, one eyebrow raised. "Do Mom and Dad know that you're gay with Arizona now?"

* * *

**Leave a review, please and thank you!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Dear all: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

_After Arizona pulled away in her truck, Callie turned back to the house, pausing at the front door to take out her key. Knowing the rest of her family was likely asleep, she was careful to shut it quietly behind her. In the living room, a lamp was still on, and she headed toward it to turn it off._

"_So."_

_Callie jumped in surprise, her hand instinctively covering her heart. Once she felt her mind begin to work again, her eyes focused on Aria, seated on the couch with her arms crossed. "Aria," she sighed. "I…didn't see you."_

"_So," Aria repeated, one eyebrow raised. "Do Mom and Dad know that you're gay with Arizona now?"_

* * *

Callie stood a few yards from her sister, stunned into silence, her mouth slightly agape.

Aria offered a humorous laugh. "I guess they don't know."

Callie gulped. "Aria, it's..." She hesitated. "…new. I've only really told Addison."

"Do Mom and Dad know about the other one?" Aria pressed, her voice bitter.

"The 'other one'?" Callie asked, incredulous. "You mean Erica?"

Aria smirked. "Guess you like blondes."

Callie released a defeated huff. In that moment, she was too tired to engage with her sister. "I'm going to bed. Welcome home or whatever."

Upstairs, in her childhood room, Callie lay in bed, unable to sleep, her eyes on the ceiling. She wished Arizona were with her, or she wished she were with Arizona. Arizona had always known how to make her feel better.

Instead, she rolled onto her side and shut her eyes, willing herself to sleep despite how awake she suddenly felt. It had been a perfect night: with Arizona, with Arizona's family. And yet, the second she got home, she was back in a world of blame and judgment and secrets.

_Aria has no right to blame or judge me,_ Callie decided. _Mom and Dad won't care._

Still, the thought of Aria outing her to her parents made her feel sick to her stomach. She didn't even want to open herself up for the possibility of judgment from her family. Her feelings for Arizona felt…_sacred_. She didn't want to risk their love being soiled by misguided moralization.

* * *

The next morning, she woke up to the scent of coffee brewing in the kitchen and ducked into her bathroom to shower. When she got out, her towel tucked around her, she was sitting at her vanity, brushing her hair, when someone tapped on her door.

"Come in!"

Lucia edged open the door and smiled at Callie. "Aria wants to go to the outlets after breakfast. Hurry and get ready, okay?"

Callie made a face. "The outlet mall? Seriously? It's like forty-five minutes away."

Lucia gave her daughter a look. "Calliope. We're so rarely all together as a family. Can't you just be flexible for a week or two?"

Callie stiffened. "She might stay for _two weeks_?"

Lucia ignored her. "Just get ready." She shut the door behind her.

With a sigh, Callie got dressed: shorts, sandals, a black v-neck that was thin enough to bear in the summer heat. She pulled her hair into a loose bun and clomped downstairs to eat her morning granola.

At the table in the grand dining room, Carlos and Aria looked up when Callie came in.

"Morning," she grumbled, averting her eyes from Aria's face.

"Good morning, Calliope," Carlos smiled. "Did you welcome your sister home?"

Finally, Callie risked a look at Aria. "Uh, yeah. We talked when I got home last night."

Aria nodded, fibbing, "Callie gave me a very warm welcome." She stood up, grabbing her half-empty bowl and heading for the kitchen to stick it in the sink. "I'm going to finish getting ready."

Holding back a sigh, Callie sat down beside her father. "How are you feeling, Daddy?"

Carlos smiled at her. "Good. Finally, both my girls are home. All it took was me almost dying." He chuckled.

Callie glared at him. "Not funny."

"It's true. You hadn't come home for twelve years! We saw each other some, but still." Carlos paused. "And you know Aria doesn't like it here. Not enough glamour for her." He offered Callie a conspiring smile.

"Speaking of which," Callie began, "why isn't Mom making you shop in the outlet mall with us? That's hardly fair."

Carlos winked at her. "I reminded your mother I'm still recovering. She agreed that I wouldn't able to keep up with you three, racing around Nordstrom's Rack."

Callie still looked miserable, and Carlos placed an allaying hand on her shoulder. "Come on, mija. Be a good sport. It's just shopping."

"I know, I know," Callie conceded with a sigh. "It'll be fine."

* * *

In the car on the way to the outlets—the only shopping around, apart from Walmarts and Winn-Dixies—Callie sat in the backseat, watching the world go by as her mom and sister chattered in the front seat.

Suddenly, she heard, "Callie, what do you think about that idea?" Expectantly, Lucia looked at Callie in the rearview mirror.

Callie attempted to recall what her mom and Aria had just been talking about, but to no avail. Finally: "What?"

"The idea of taking Aria on all the little adventures you've been going on lately," Lucia clarified. She turned to Aria. "Do you remember Calliope's childhood best friend, Arizona? They've been spending a lot of time together this summer."

"Not that much time," Callie defended, her cheeks growing hot.

Finally, Aria turned in her seat to look at her sister, her eyebrow raised in a sarcastic _Is that right?_

"A three-year difference in age was a big deal when you all were young, but, now, it's almost nothing," Lucia continued. "Aria, I think you'd like Arizona. She's a sweet girl." Her eyes found Callie's again. "Tell her, mija."

Embarrassed, Callie looked down at her worrying hands in her lap. "She is sweet. I missed her."

Aria snickered. "I'm sure."

Lucia pulled into the parking lot of the outlet mall—or, well, outlet strip mall—and parked the car in front of the Michael Kors. She grinned at her daughters. "Shall we?"

* * *

Inside the store, Callie, Aria, and Lucia split up to look for clothes they liked, though Callie found herself unenthused. In San Francisco, she often loved shopping in the Westfield or downtown. Back home, though, she no longer felt so focused on the way she looked. It just didn't seem important—not for Arizona, and not for herself. There was nothing "posh" about their hometown. She was happy just to wear sneakers and a t-shirt, for once.

After an hour of shopping around—in boredom, for Callie—they met in the dressing rooms to model their clothes for each other. Lucia went last, and Callie and Aria sat on the bench a few feet from her dressing room.

"Okay, girls…" Lucia stepped out of the room with her hands on her lips, modeling the loose silk dress for her daughters. "What do we think?"

Callie shrugged. "It's cute."

Aria nodded. "I like it, Mom. The color's pretty." It was a deep blue.

"Great," Lucia smiled, shutting herself back into the dressing room.

Callie and Aria faced forward, silent and still.

"What about this one?" Lucia came back out, this time in a _red_ loose silk dress.

Callie's eyebrows furrowed. "Is that…the same dress?"

Lucia looked down at it. "This one's red."

Aria gestured to it. "But, otherwise, it's the exact same dress, isn't it?"

"This one's red!" Lucia defended. "Ay." She shook her head. "I know it looks good. I'm just going to get it." When she opened the door to lock herself into the dressing room again, Callie and Aria caught sight of the very same dress in gold, green, purple, and sky blue.

Instinctively, they met each other's eyes and burst out laughing. "You're getting the dress in _every_ color?"

"Of course I am!" Lucia grouched from inside.

Callie grinned at her sister, mimicking their mother's indignant tone: "Of _course_ she is."

Aria chuckled, and Callie smiled at her. For a second, it was like they were teenagers again: laughing like sisters, like two people who loved each other and trusted each other and got along.

And then, suddenly, it was like Callie could see Aria remembering what had happened with her and Erica back in San Francisco, the smile falling from her face. After a few more seconds, Aria cleared her throat, turning back to stare at the dressing room door.

Callie exhaled a long breath and followed suit. She wouldn't make herself vulnerable and apologize or attempt to work things out with her sister. _I don't have anything to be sorry for. It's up to her._

Aria crossed her arms over her chest, closing herself off.

* * *

That afternoon, after coming home with bags and bags of new clothes—mostly her mother's—Callie was eager for a break from her family. She threw her hair up into a ponytail and took the shortcut through the forest, heading for the orchard.

A few minutes later, walking toward Arizona's farmhouse, she spotted the blonde sitting on the porch. She lifted her hand in a weak wave. Just seeing her face, Callie instantly felt better.

On the porch, Arizona stood up, instinctively taking a step forward, even though a fair distance still remained between them. "Callie…"

Callie forced a smile as she climbed up the few steps onto the wraparound porch. "Hey."

Arizona opened her arms, instantly pulling Callie into a hug. Grateful, Callie clung to Arizona, her eyes shut, inhaling the sweet scent of blonde hair.

After another moment, Arizona pulled back, her thumb tracing Callie's cheek. "What happened with Aria?"

Callie shrugged, her voice cracking as she tried to speak. "She hates me."

Never breaking eye contact, Arizona led them to the porch swing so they could sit down. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know. She saw us together last night and was rude about it. We went shopping today and, for a second, everything was normal, and then it all went sour again."

Arizona's brows furrowed. "She was rude about us?"

Callie looked down at their intertwined hands, the freckles and bleached thin hair on Arizona's arms. "I don't know what her deal is. Is she homophobic? I don't want to believe it, but why else would she be acting like this?"

Arizona squeezed her hand. "What did she say?"

Callie frowned. "She basically threatened to tell our parents about us. Which is fine," she added, wanting Arizona to know she wasn't afraid to come out—she wasn't ashamed of her or herself. "But, I mean, we don't even know what we are. And I'd rather tell my parents I like you myself. Obviously, I've learned that that's not ideal."

Arizona offered a small smile. "_Obviously_." She tucked a lock of black hair behind Callie's ear. "I'm sorry you're having to deal with her negativity."

Callie laughed a little. "I'm sorry you're having to. I don't mean to unload on you."

Arizona bumped her shoulder. "I want you to unload on me. That's what friends do."

At that, Callie bit her bottom lip, her eyes wide and careful. "I don't think of you as my friend."

Arizona blinked at her. "You want to talk about this…now?"

"We probably should. I mean, what I feel for you goes far beyond the platonic. What is this? A summer fling? Love?"

"I think you already know how I feel." Arizona pursed her lips. "What we are—or what we become—is more up to you."

"Yeah," Callie breathed, recognizing that Arizona was right. "And you're not a fling. Whether I knew it or not, we've loved each other forever."

Arizona's lips quirked up. "We have."

Callie leaned in, softly pressing their lips together. She lingered there—shuddering at the contact. "Which means I need to move out of my San Francisco apartment and start applying to teaching jobs here."

Arizona pulled back. "Are you sure?" She paused. "I mean, you've built a whole life there. And it's big and cosmopolitan and exciting and…this isn't. It's just me and my peaches and lake and woods and this tiny town."

Callie couldn't help but chuckle, amused by Arizona's anxieties that she knew were unwarranted. She wanted to provide comfort, to let Arizona how sure of this she was. "Anything so real that I have to run three-thousand miles away from is worth fighting for. It's worth staying for." She sighed. "And I don't know if I should say any more, since it's only been a few weeks-"

"Say more," Arizona encouraged, her eyes bright.

"_You're_ worth staying for," Callie confessed, finally stating her truth. "I can teach anywhere. I don't care what city it's in. I want to be with you."

At that, Arizona found herself absolutely lovedrunk. She squealed as she squeezed Callie tight, finally assured that Callie shared her feelings, that their relationship could actually go somewhere, that they could really be something. Ever since Callie had arrived, Arizona had reminded herself that—come September—she'd be gone all over again. But Callie wasn't leaving anymore.

Callie laughed, burying her face in Arizona's neck, lips pressing against the salt of her. "That's how I feel, too." She kissed a soft cheek.

"So what do you want to do?" Arizona asked. "You had a tough day. What can I do to help?"

"You always help," Callie admitted. She felt a drop of sweat roll down her back and had an idea. "Do you want to swim?"

"Now?"

Callie shrugged and nodded.

"What—in our clothes?"

Callie blushed a little. "I was thinking underwear."

Arizona pursed her lips, suddenly self-conscious. "You'll have to see my leg."

Callie grinned. "That's the whole point. I want to see your legs."

Arizona rolled her eyes, a little irritated that Callie was making light of something that felt so serious to her. "Ha ha."

Callie softened her voice. "We don't have to. Or, if you want, I can shut my eyes while you take of your prosthetic. I'm not trying to pressure you. I just want to make sure you know that, well," she felt her stomach somersault, "I'm attracted to you."

Arizona smiled. "I'm attracted to _you_."

"There we go!" Callie chuckled. "So, if nothing else, if we swim right now, we'll get to see each other in our bras."

Arizona laughed.

"Forgive the fact that I just sounded like a horny teenager."

"Well, better late than never, I guess. As a teenager, I always wanted you to be horny for me."

Callie held out her hand. "Sooo…"

Arizona accepted it, standing up so they could trek to the lake beyond the orchard. "I'm just coming for the boobs."

"Ha!" Callie cackled. "The cold water will be good, too."

At the dock, their hands unclasped, fingers hovering over the hems of their shirts.

Sensing their sudden nervousness, Arizona reminded Callie, "We've seen it all before."

"I know," Callie acknowledged. "Different circumstances, though. When you put your pajamas on at slumber parties, I wasn't exactly thinking of you in _that_ way."

"I was," Arizona muttered under her breath, and Callie smiled at her.

Still working to take the pressure off them, Callie offered, "It's not like we have to stand bare in front of each other, covering ourselves in twigs and leaves like Adam and Eve. We're just swimming. I won't stare."

"Okay," Arizona exhaled. She pulled her shirt over her head. As she worked to unbutton her jeans, though, she felt herself staring at Callie's near-naked back. So much tan skin. She wanted to taste it.

As Callie began to shimmy out of her shorts, she looked up, catching Arizona staring.

Arizona hurried to avert her eyes, focusing on taking off her own jeans. Callie watched: black bikini-style underwear, skin so white it was almost translucent. The flat expanse of her abdomen, muscles visible even as Arizona bent down.

Pulling her shorts off her ankles, Callie watched as Arizona struggled to pull down her loose jeans over the bulge of the prosthetic. Finally, she sat down so that she could pull them off completely. She looked up at Callie. "You can get in. I'll be right behind you."

Understanding the implicit meaning behind her words, Callie nodded. She sat on the edge of the dock, dipping her feet into the water. "How deep is it?"

"Over forty-feet, at its center. I measured it last summer."

Callie's eyes widened. She nodded toward the three rocks—boulders, really—across from them. "Have you ever jumped?"

Arizona jerked her head back and forth—an emphatic _No way_. "Too high. Too scary."

"We've always wanted to," Callie recalled.

"Maybe one day. I'd jump with you."

Callie put her hand over her heart. "I'm touched." And then, without another thought, she propelled herself off the dock and into the water, relishing in its coolness. She came up for air only long enough to breathe, ducking back under and dolphin-kicking out toward the center, feeling like some sort of water nymph.

When she came back up, Arizona called, "How is it?"

"It's amazing! Are you coming?"

Arizona sat on the dock's edge, her prosthesis discarded behind her. After one final breath of preparation, she slid into the water, gasping in response to the cold. She freestroked toward Callie. Both her legs splashed against the water, the kick muscle memory. When she reached Callie, she stopped, and they trod water across from each other.

"I want to live in here," Callie mused. "It's the only place I don't feel like I'm melting."

"I know," Arizona hummed, tilting her head back to allow the water to smooth back her hair.

Callie shifted, floating on her back, her eyes squinting at the bright sky. Arizona followed suit, grabbing Callie's hand to keep their bodies close. She shut her eyes, listening to the sound of the water rippling below their bodies, her ears submerged.

"I can't believe you bought this place."

Arizona lifted her head, just enough to inspect Callie's face. "Why?"

"It's just so perfect," Callie explained. "This is what I always thought about, when I thought of home. Not my old house or the high school or the roller derby rink we used to hang out at on weekends. I thought of the orchard."

They went back to treading water, and Arizona watched Callie carefully as she continued.

"I feel like I was born here. This was the place where I came alive—with you. This was the place where I felt most myself for the first time."

Arizona smiled. "And now you're back, with me, all over again."

Callie nodded.

"And we're coming alive."

* * *

**Let me know what you think! xo**


	10. Chapter 10

Later that night, Arizona sat at the bar while Alex poured his customers drinks.

"Dude! She's staying? Really?"

As Arizona nodded, she couldn't help but smile. "That's the plan."

"That's amazing." Alex handed her a beer. "I can't believe it."

"Me neither," Arizona admitted, taking a swig. "I can't believe it's real. It feels too good to be true." She felt a welcoming breeze against her back as someone opened the bar's door and she shut her eyes, pushing her matted hair out of her face.

"Oh, man," Alex breathed, his eyes suddenly focused on something or someone far behind her.

Instinctively, Arizona turned around and followed his gaze. And then, instantly, her face blanched. "Oh my god."

Alex's eyebrows furrowed and he pulled his eyes away to look at his best friend. "What?"

"_Alex_," Arizona said between clenched teeth. "_That's_ Aria."

"No way," Alex shook his head, his eyes back on the woman looking around his bar. "I would've remembered her."

Arizona rolled her eyes. "Don't even think about it. She's married."

"Hey, there's no law against looking."

Arizona's eyes narrowed. "She's a homophobe. She hasn't talked to Callie in, like, two years! Or did you forget?"

"No, no, I remember." He waved her off. "I'm not saying she's not a bad person, but…_dude_." His eyes remained on Aria as she walked closer, her heels clacking against the old wooden floor. She was all wavy hair, her eyes light like her father's, her skin tanned by the European sun.

She leaned her elbows on the counter. "Hey, can I get-"

"A martini—extra dry, I know," Alex interrupted, already grabbing the cocktail shaker.

Impressed, Aria nodded back at him. "You're right. How'd you know?"

Alex shrugged. "I know a martini girl when I see one. And you know enough to like yours stirred, not shaken, too, huh?"

Aria grinned. "Right, again."

Arizona remained silent, watching Callie's older sister from a few feet away, trying to get a better read on her. It had been twelve years since she'd seen her—longer than that, really, since she'd gone off to college in New York City and had only come back for a few holidays.

As Alex set Aria's martini down in front of her, his eyes caught Arizona's, and Aria noticed her presence for the first time. "Oh. Hey. You're-"

Arizona nodded. "I'm the one who's gay with Callie."

Aria grimaced. "She told you."

"Yup."

Slowly, Alex began to back away, eager to escape the upcoming awkwardness.

Aria took a sip of her martini and shut her eyes as she swallowed, pleasuring in the familiar burn.

Arizona just stared at her: how much Aria looked like Callie, the main differences being only Aria's perfectly-coiffed hair and her reek of Shalimar. "So, um. Welcome home."

Aria blinked at her for a long moment. Then, she sighed. "You must think I'm terrible."

"We've known each other for a long time," Arizona offered, "and I've never thought that highly of you."

Aria winced. "Harsh."

Arizona shrugged. "I mean, I didn't know you—still don't. You and Callie got along sometimes and fought sometimes but, mostly, you just stayed out of each other's way."

"We had our own lives," Aria accepted, her tone diplomatic.

Arizona chuckled. "Oh, I remember: you were the head cheerleader, the prom queen, the whole American Dream. You had all your fans. And Callie had-"

"You."

Arizona bit her lip. "Well, among other things."

"She and I have always been different," Aria defended. "Different interests, the age difference…"

"A two-year difference might mean something when she's fourteen and you're sixteen, maybe, but not anymore."

Aria shrugged. "Family's complicated."

Arizona inspected her face. Then: "Did you like me?"

Aria's eyebrows knit together. "You mean back when we were kids?"

Arizona nodded.

"Oh. You freaked me out, I think. Those big blue eyes and your…intensity. It always felt like you could see right through everyone's bullshit—especially mine."

"I probably could," Arizona laughed. Then, she sighed, remembering again who she was talking to—this woman had ignored Callie, had hurt her, had threatened to 'out' her, even. "You know, you're her big sister. You're supposed to be better."

Aria smirked. "You're intense about her, you know that?"

Arizona ignored her, her expression solemn. "I'm serious."

"You love her," Aria noted. _It's so obvious._

Arizona shrugged. "Yeah. And so do you."

* * *

"You _so_ do," Addison laughed. "Oh my god. You so love her. You're totally in love with her!"

"I didn't say that," Callie defended, her voice quiet.

"You didn't have to! I'm your best friend. I know you. And, I mean, changing your whole life to be with her makes it pretty clear. I can't believe you're leaving me."

"I'm not leaving _you_. I'm leaving California. I'll come back to visit!" Then, Callie changed the subject. "So how are you? How are things with the grocery store guy?"

Addison sighed dreamily. "Jake. He's good."

"You've got to give me more than that."

"He's, like, remarkably chivalrous. Like, it's weird after dating Derek and Mark to meet a guy who's so gentlemanly. We were going out the other day and I offered to drive and he was all, '_I drive_.'" She parroted his deep voice. "He was like, 'Call me old fashioned, but it's who I am. I'll open the car door for you and I'll drive.'"

"Damn," Callie's brows flew up. "That's kind of hot."

"I know," Addison laughed. "So maybe we're both finally having some luck in love. It's good with him, you know? He gets me."

Callie nodded. "Yeah. I'd never realized how special it was—to be understood."

"So when are you sending your letter of resignation to the school?" Addison asked.

Callie frowned. "I'm going to set up a time for the President to call me, actually. It feels weird to do it over email."

"Twelve years of avoiding that tiny town and now you're moving there. So weird."

"It's weird but good," Callie decided.

"So you'll come for a weekend one day soon to move out of your apartment? And I'll see you then?"

"Yeah," Callie promised. "I'll let you know as soon as I get my plane ticket."

* * *

The following morning, Callie clomped downstairs and found the rest of her family sitting at the table, eating breakfast. They weren't eating together, exactly—it was a private experience for each of them, with Carlos doing a crossword, Lucia reading the newspaper, and Aria on her phone, nothing but the sound of coffee brewing in the kitchen.

They all looked up at the sight of her. Carlos smiled as he took a sip of his tea, the steam fogging up his reading glasses. "Good morning, Calliope."

"Morning," Callie smiled at her parents, careful not to meet Aria's eyes.

"You slept in longer than usual," Lucia noted.

Callie yawned. "I was up late talking to Addie."

"What are you doing today?" Lucia asked. She turned to Aria. "You two should spend some time together, no?"

Immediately, Callie started shaking her head. "I'm sure Aria has plans, and I…" she trailed off, working to think of an excuse. "I have…stuff to do."

"What stuff?" Lucia pressed.

"Actually," Aria offered before Callie could answer, "I don't have any plans today."

Hesitantly, Callie turned to meet her eyes. They looked softer than Callie had expected.

"Show me what you've been doing around here this summer," Aria suggested, "apart from Arizona." She saw Callie flinch at the comment and search their parents' faces—_I didn't mean to sound snarky_, Aria thought, and then worked to temper her tone. "I mean, I think it'd be fun to explore together."

"Okay…" Callie offered, clearly uneasy. "I, um, just need to eat something first."

Aria nodded. "Perf. While I wait, I'll call Rich to check in."

"Tell him hi from us!" Carlos called over his shoulder as Aria ran off.

"Tell him we love him!" Lucia added.

"I will!"

As soon as Aria left the room, Lucia turned her attention back to Callie. "It really is time for you to get a husband, mija. I'll call Louise and see if George is interested."

* * *

As soon as they were out the front door, Callie shot Aria a look. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

Playing dumb, Aria furrowed her brows. "What do you mean?"

Callie rolled her eyes. "Forget it." And, with that, she began to walk, Aria following at her heels. They walked past the jasmine that had crawled up their neighbors' fence, past the sprawling plantation homes, past the crowd of eucalyptuses at the edge of the forest. Automatically, Callie led them into the woods' mouth—the long-trampled path, free from the poison ivy and toads that abounded around them.

Aria bit her lip. "I think I know where we're going…"

Callie stiffened but refused to look back and meet her sister's eyes. "We're not going to Arizona's. I don't want your negativity anywhere near her."

"I'm not being negative!" Aria picked up her pace so that she and Callie could walk side-by-side on the narrow path.

Callie just shook her head, determined not to engage.

"You're just going to ignore me?"

Finally, Callie turned to face her, stopping in her tracks, her arms crossed over her chest. "You're the one who's ignored me. For, like, two years now."

Aria shrugged. "Well, I'm not anymore."

"Well, maybe you should go back to that," Callie countered. "I think I was just starting to like the quiet."

"Callie!" Aria chastised, her tone revealing genuine hurt.

But Callie was determined not to engage. To not cry. To not let Aria know how much she'd hurt her. So, instead, she took off, running along the path and away from her sister.

"Callie!"

She heard Aria call after her, but she refused to look back. Instead, she kept moving, feeling the humid air fill her lungs, her feet pounding against the dirt.

A few minutes later, she came out the other end of the forest. She looked out at the fields spreading in front of her as she worked to catch her breath, hands on her knees. Then, she suddenly sensed that she wasn't alone and turned to find Aria right behind her—not nearly as tired as she was.

Aria smiled. "You forgot that I'm the athlete of the family."

"Great," Callie huffed. "Now that you're here, I can't escape you."

"Don't be like that."

"Stop. Okay?" Callie decided. "You don't get to tell me how to be. I've spent long enough struggling with my sexuality as is. I don't need you judging me anymore than you have already."

"What?"

But Callie was on a roll. "I don't know what your damage is or how you're managing to, like, exist in the twenty-first century as a deeply homophobic person, b-"

"Wait, _what?_" Aria shook her head.

"Look, we've never been best friends or anything, and that's fine. You go live your life and I'll live mine."

"Callie, I-"

"I need to move," Callie decided, ignoring her sister. "You can find your own way back, right?" And, without waiting for a response, she turned away and made her way deeper into the fields without a look back. She walked and walked, finally finding herself at the foot of the water tower Arizona loved so much. She shut her eyes, willing herself to be brave, even there alone, and then began climbing the ladder. She moved methodically, forbidding herself from looking down and, before she knew it, she had made it to the top. She pulled herself up onto even ground and looked out at the view. The sun shone bright in the sky, making all world beneath her look especially vibrant. She looked out at the infinite landscape: the distant hills, the quilt-like squares of farms and fields, the sprawl of houses, the trucks along the road—so old that she could see the exhaust fumes even from that distance.

She thought back to her and Aria's childhoods and adolescences. They'd never had all that much in common, sure, but—once upon a time—she had trusted Aria and Aria had trusted her. Once upon a time, Callie had known that, if she ever needed her sister, Aria would have been there for her. In fact, she'd once admired Aria—the cool big sister, the most popular girl in school. She'd told her about her first kiss, about the time she'd almost gotten caught shoplifting, about the first time she'd been felt up by a boy. Back then, Aria hadn't judged her—for anything. But, now, Callie couldn't help but feel her judgment, and she resented it. _What does it matter if I like girls?_ It had nothing to do with Aria. Frankly, it had nothing to do with anyone, except Arizona. How dare Aria be so cruel. She and Arizona weren't hurting anyone. Wasn't more love good?

She pulled up her hair into a ponytail to allow her neck to breathe, wincing at how oily her roots felt as a result of all the sweat. In the summer, San Francisco got up to seventy-five degrees on a good day—and it was often considerably colder, with the fog and seabreeze. Callie was still getting used to the hundred-degree heat and humidity. She fanned her face, wishing she'd thought to bring water.

* * *

At home, Arizona did her seasonal cleaning and dusting while Billie Holiday crooned from the record player. Despite herself, she found that she wished Callie were there with her. Like always. But she knew Callie was busy with family—or busy avoiding family, as best she could—so Arizona was happy to entertain herself with the duster and Windex and quiet of her house. In fact, she'd lived that way for years—hermetic, save for her parents and Alex and the occasional hookup.

In that way, it felt like Callie had brought her back to life, maybe. Like, she'd gone to war and come back broken and been broken down further by her leg and the judgment and the PTSD…and, now, it was like she was coming back to herself. She felt like herself again.

After cleaning, she strode outside, walking into the orchard to pick some ripe peaches to bring to her mother. _Maybe I'll get some for Carlos, too,_ she thought. Above her head, the sun was bright in the sky, though some clouds in the distance looked gray and engorged with precipitation. _Maybe it'll rain._

* * *

That night, Callie closed herself into her room after dinner. She wanted desperately to go visit Arizona, but she also didn't want to feel Aria's silent judgment. _I know I shouldn't care_, she thought, _but I do_. She wouldn't qualify herself as eager-to-please per se, but—if she could find a way to avoid conflict—that was what she was going to do.

She was sitting in bed, her eyes beginning to glaze over as she worked to focus on the new translation of _The Odyssey_, when she heard a knock on her door. "Come in!"

A pause. Then, Aria's voice: "It's locked."

With a frustrated sigh, Callie stood up and walked to her door, yanking it open. Aria stood on the other side, in old pajamas with her makeup removed.

Callie frowned at her. "What do you want?"

Aria bit her bottom lip. "To talk to you."

Callie shook her head. "Sorry. I'm not taking visitors." She began to shut the door.

"_No_," Aria shoved her foot between the door and the jamb, demanding entrance. With Callie distracted, she pushed past her into the room. "This is serious."

Callie exhaled an exasperated breath. "Aria, I'm not in the mood for a lecture, okay? If you start quoting the Bible to me or some other I-have-an-excuse-to-be-a-small-minded-asshole nonsense, I might kick you."

"I'm not!" Aria swore. "Ugh. You're so bullheaded, to this day."

"Oh, thanks," Callie barked. "That's really sweet."

Aria sat crisscross on Callie's bed and patted the space before her. "Sit. Please."

Reluctantly, Callie sat. She waited.

Finally: "I was a bitch to you. I see that now."

Callie nodded.

"I probably should've talked to you after running into you at Westfield. I should've…answered your calls."

"You didn't want anything to do with me," Callie reminded her. "God forbid you have an imperfect sister."

Aria's eyebrows furrowed. "We're all imperfect. And that's not…why I got so mad."

"You got mad because you're a homophobe."

"No!" Aria exclaimed, losing her temper a little. She worked to quiet her voice. "Just let me talk."

Callie waited.

Aria sighed. "You used to tell me things. I mean, back in high school, we were never close, but we trusted each other. I trusted you with my secrets, and I thought you trusted me, too. But you never told me you liked girls. And I was…hurt, finding out the way I did instead of you telling me yourself. I mean, we're sisters. I thought you trusted me."

Callie looked down. "I did."

"You clearly didn't," Aria argued. "If you had, you would've told me."

"I…" Callie suddenly felt herself on the defense, and she didn't like it. All this time, she'd told herself that Aria was a terrible person. But, it turned out, she was just hurt. "I didn't really tell anyone. I mean, I was still struggling with it myself. And working at a Catholic school…" She drifted off. "There was kind of a Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell policy there. I guess I took it beyond just the workplace."

Aria's voice was quiet. "Well, how long _have_ you known?"

Callie hesitated, staring at her face. "A while."

"Callie!" Aria protested. "We've established that I'm not really the bad guy, here. I mean, I was mad, but not because you were dating a woman. I was mad because I felt like I didn't know you—like you didn't trust me enough to tell me who you really are."

"I was scared."

"You're always scared," Aria agreed, her tone both soft and exasperated. "But tell me: when did you know?"

Callie pursed her lips. "I really want to keep her out of this…"

Aria reached for her. "I'm your sister. I'm here for you. Just trust me."

After another moment of delay, Callie felt the corners of her lips quirk up. "I knew right before college. Something…happened." She paused, watching Aria's face as she worked to calculate the meaning of her words.

"_Oh_," Aria breathed in realization. "I get it." She offered a knowing smile. "Arizona?"

Callie nodded. "And, to be clear, those feelings freaked me out so much that I didn't talk to her for twelve years, so don't feel too bad. You're not the only one I was afraid to talk to."

Aria was silent for a moment, just processing. Then: "Do you forgive me?"

"Shouldn't I be asking if you'll forgive me?" Callie countered, half-joking. "I didn't realize I was the bad guy in your story."

"I forgive you," Aria smiled. "I'm glad that at least I'm not the only one you shut out."

"I shut out everyone," Callie promised with a dark chuckle. "And I forgive you. All this time, I thought you just hated gay people. Which I guess doesn't really make sense in retrospect, but…" She sighed. "I mean, we live in a crazy world. There are hateful people everywhere."

"Not me," Aria vowed. "And I'm happy for you and Arizona. She's a keeper."

"She is," Callie admitted. Then, confused: "But, wait, you haven't seen her in years. How would you know?"

"Hey, I got to see you two rotate around each other like a compass when we were kids. I could see in her eyes that she was in love with you. And I guess, in retrospect, it kind of makes sense that you loved her, too."

"I didn't know I did—not until that last night we saw each other before college."

Aria raised her eyebrows. "You know now."

Callie's cheeks flushed. _True_. "Maybe."

Aria laughed and started to get up from the bed. "I feel better."

"Me, too. I missed you."

Aria's hand came up to tousle her hair and, suddenly, they were kids, again. "You, too."

* * *

**Hope you all like this chapter! Please let me know what you think in the reviews. xo**


	11. Chapter 11

After lunch the next day, Callie trekked toward the orchard, eager to see Arizona after a day apart. Which was crazy—she knew—but she found that she wanted to spend every second she could with her.

In the sky, dark clouds covered the sun, and Callie was grateful for a little shelter from the heat—though it was still over ninety degrees. She moved through the forest that smelled vaguely of petrichor and finally found herself walking up Arizona's porch steps, her stomach instantly somersaulting. She knocked lightly on the door and, a minute later, it swung open and she was greeted by Arizona's dimpled face.

Instantly, Callie smiled, feeling almost giddy. "Hi."

"Hi." Arizona stepped forward, reaching for Callie's waist with one hand as she shut the door behind her with the other.

Callie ducked her head, happy to accept Arizona's kiss. She threaded her fingers through blonde hair.

Arizona pulled back after another moment. "How are you? I missed you yesterday."

"I'm good," Callie answered, really meaning it. "You'll never guess what happened with Aria."

Arizona grinned. "Try me." She reached for Callie's hand and, together, they headed out into the orchard.

"She apologized. And I guess we're good now."

Arizona's eyes widened. "Really? You are?"

Callie nodded, feeling like a weight had been lifted off her chest. "I was holding onto my last bit of shame, I think, because of her. And now that I know that she isn't judging me or hating me, I think it's all gone. I just feel good."

Arizona squeezed her hand as they kept walking. "Good. That's how you should feel."

Callie smiled at her. "So what did you do yesterday? What did I miss?"

Together, they sat down among the peach trees—at the spot where they first had come alive, together.

Arizona pursed her lips as she thought. "Well, I deep-cleaned the house, and I picked some peaches. So it was a pretty eventful day for me," she joked.

Callie laughed. "Sounds fun."

Arizona shrugged. "Would've been more fun with you. I did listen to that Billie Holiday record you gave me, though, so that helped the monotony."

They lay back against the soil and grass, turned like parentheses to face each other. Callie lifted her hand, cradling Arizona's cheek. "Glad I could help."

Melting at the touch—the rhythmic stroking of Callie's thumb—Arizona's eyes fell closed, her breathing suddenly erratic.

The sound of the shift in her breathing was enough to make Callie's center clench, and she edged forward, her lips a hair's breadth away from Arizona's.

Feeling Callie's warm breath against her face, Arizona blinked her eyes open, just long enough to know she wasn't imagining things, closing the distance and pressing her lips hard to Callie's.

Callie moaned into the contact, and Arizona brought her hand to her hip, pulling herself closer. Nipping Callie's bottom lip, she slid her hand under her shirt, moving up her side…

"_God_," Callie moaned, instantly flashing back to the first time Arizona had touched her, in this same place, the first jolt of electricity surging through her.

Arizona pulled back, joking, "I appreciate the formality of that title, but 'Arizona' will do."

"Shut up," Callie chuckled, feeling her cheeks redden. How little it took for Arizona to get her feeling like this. "Come here." Her hand found the back of Arizona's neck, and she pulled her to her, shutting her eyes at the sensation of those wet lips against her own. They were so close that she felt Arizona's heartbeat, thrumming against her chest. She moved her other hand down her sharp jaw, down her neck, over a breast, down her waist, her hip, her thigh…

Arizona stiffened, pulling back.

"What's wrong?" Callie asked, the absence of Arizona's heat against her leaving her with goosebumps, despite the swelter outside.

Suddenly self-conscious, Arizona just shook her head, averting her eyes.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Arizona vowed, turning back to face Callie. Her eyes were wet. "It's just…my leg."

Callie's eyes softened. "Did I hurt you?"

Arizona shook her head again. "No. I just…remembered it. How ugly it is. I don't want you to ever have to see it."

"Arizona," Callie breathed, "there are no ugly parts of you. Trust me."

Arizona just blinked at her, unconvinced.

"I don't have to touch it, if you don't want me to," Callie offered. "Or we can…stop what we were doing, if you want. It's okay—anything you feel, it's okay."

Arizona looked deep into those dark brown eyes that saw her, that accepted her, and then reached for Callie's hand, placing it on her waist again. "I liked doing what we were doing."

Callie's lips lifted into a soft smile. "Me, too. But we don't have to."

Arizona reached for Callie's cheek and leaned in, brushing those full lips with hers. "I want to." Her tongue dipped into Callie's mouth, and Callie was happy to reciprocate, her lips immediately parting. She found the hem of Arizona's shirt and pulled back momentarily to ask permission. "Can I?"

Arizona nodded. "Yes."

Callie shut her eyes as her palm explored naked skin: back, side, abdomen, ribcage.

Arizona pressed closer, her hand fisting black hair.

Pressing their lips together again, Callie felt a drop of water hit her forehead and then slide down her face. She stilled. "Did you feel that?"

"I felt it," Arizona husked, pressing her body tight against Callie's. "I feel it."

"No," Callie laughed. "Hold on." She pulled back for a minute, waiting for another drop to fall. And there it was. And another. And another. And another.

"Oh, shoot," Arizona realized. _Rain_. And, by the time it took the words to pass her lips, the raindrops were too numerable to count. Suddenly, it was a downpour, torrential, rain falling so hard the world started to drum.

She and Callie pulled themselves up—their backs now muddy—and hurried back toward the house, hand-in-hand.

Callie had to yell over the noise. "This is crazy!" She had never experienced so much sudden rain—not as far as she could remember, anyway.

"It's just a flash-flood!" Arizona called back, working to stay in-step with Callie. Already, the orchard was puddling around them, their shoes and socks soaked through.

It took another five minutes before they made it to the porch and were sheltered from the rain. They were wet to the bone as they stood there, watching as buckets of water rained from the sky.

Arizona scowled at the sight, her expression almost childish. "That was a rude interruption."

Callie grinned at her. "It saved me some time. Now I won't have to go home and take a cold shower."

"Ha," Arizona deadpanned. Then, serious, she asked, "Do you want to come in and take a shower here? I have two, and it's not safe for you to go home with it raining so hard, anyway. You can stay for dinner, if you want."

"Really?"

Arizona nodded. "Of course. You know I'd love it."

"Okay," Callie agreed. "Thanks."

* * *

Half an hour later, Callie stepped out of the shower onto the bathroom mat, the steam spreading around her. She inhaled its clean scent and grabbed the towel Arizona had given her, trying her hair and then tucking it around her armpits. She looked around for her clothes and found them—in a pile on the floor, sopping wet. _Oh, yeah_. After a minute of deliberation, she decided to go upstairs to borrow a t-shirt and some sweats from Arizona before she got out of her own shower. She strode into the bedroom and headed toward the dresser, knowing where Arizona stored her pajamas. As she opened the middle drawer, the adjoining bathroom door opened, and Callie turned to see Arizona rolling out and into the bedroom in her wheelchair, a towel tucked around her, drops of hot water still pearling her naked shoulders.

Callie felt her mouth go dry. "Hey."

Arizona jumped at the sound, her head whipping around to face her. Immediately, she felt ashamed. She didn't want Callie to see her like this—as what she was. Disabled. Less than able. Missing parts. Opposite of whole.

Callie wanted to lick the water from her skin. To bury her face in that wet hair, straight for once and still warm from the shower.

Arizona hurried to cover the mess that was her amputation scar with her hand. She tried to roll back into the bathroom, but she couldn't maneuver her wheelchair with just one arm.

"I was just-" Callie paused. "I don't have any dry clothes."

"Hold on." Hesitantly, Arizona let go of her leg, rolling toward her prosthesis that leaned against the bed. She quickly put it on and then stood upright, instantly feeling a little better. She walked toward her dresser, her towel still tucked beneath her armpits. "I'll get you some."

Callie's eyes tracked her every movement, trying hard not to stare too long at her pearly shoulders, the mole on her back.

Arizona grabbed a t-shirt, some newish underwear, and a pair of shorts. She turned to hand them to Callie, and whatever words she'd been planning to say caught in her throat. Because there was Callie, standing in front of her, naked save for a towel. Her long legs, completely bare. The tan skin of her chest and arms.

Noting her hesitation, Callie attempted to help by just taking the clothes from her hands. "Thanks. I'll, um, go change downstairs—get out of your hair." She turned toward the door.

"Wait."

Callie turned back, her brows knitted together in concern.

Self-conscious, Arizona bit her lip. "Do you…" she trailed off.

Automatically, Callie took a step back toward her.

Arizona worked to slow her breathing. "Do you still…want me?"

Callie's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't pause before answering. "Yeah," she laughed, a little breathless. Her gaze lingered on those bare shoulders. "I definitely want you."

Arizona pursed her lips. "And you think you still will if you see my leg?"

"I can't imagine ever not wanting you," Callie admitted, her voice soft at the truth of it.

Arizona nodded—accepting her answer—and stepped forward. Closer. Closer. So close that their wet towels pressed together. She pressed her lips to Callie's, delighting in the way Callie instantly reached for her waist, pulling her closer. "I want you, too."

And then she stepped back, her hand reaching for the hem of her towel. She watched Callie's face—watched the way Callie watched _her_. She untucked the fabric, letting her towel fall down the length of her and land softly on the floor. She watched Callie take her in—how her eyes seemed to get impossibly darker, her chest heaving.

Arizona smiled. "Your turn."

Callie inhaled a breath in preparation and then nodded. Like Arizona, she unclasped her towel and let it fall. She watched Arizona's face: how hungry for her she looked, her hands twitching at her sides as if desperate to touch.

"Should we lie down?" Callie suggested. She wanted to feel that firm body against hers. On her and in her. All over.

Arizona nodded and climbed up onto the bed, scooting back until her head reached the pillow and then motioning for Callie to join her. They lay side-by-side, facing each other, each waiting for the other to make a move.

Finally, Arizona reached for Callie's hand, pulling it up into the space between them and using the tip of her index finger to trace her knuckles, the lines on her palm. Callie watched, transfixed.

Slowly, Arizona began to move her finger further: tracing up Callie's forearm, up to her shoulder, over to her clavicle, down to her…

Callie shut her eyes.

Arizona's finger encircled a nipple, feeling it tighten and harden at her touch.

Callie worked to slow her breath, already tremulous.

Prideful at the reaction her touch was eliciting already, Arizona's lips quirked up, and she leaned forward to kiss Callie, her fingers tweaking that hardened nipple.

Callie groaned into the kiss, her hand moving down Arizona's back, a little lower…

Immediately, Arizona pressed closer, pushing Callie onto her back and coming to kneel between her legs. Callie's eyes immediately fell to the breasts hanging over her, taunting her to touch them. Slowly, she brought her hands up, cradling each her thumbs swiping over pink nipples.

"Callie…" Arizona breathed, fighting to maintain her balance amid the sensation. Holding most of her weight on her legs, she leaned forward enough that their abdomens touched, their breasts rubbing together. She found Callie's mouth and kissed her with hunger, consumed by all that sudden skin. She felt Callie arch up against her in response—those strong hands on the small of her back—and moved her lips over a tan jaw, down the column of her neck. She tongued the side of a breast, inching her way toward a nipple before sucking it into her mouth, nibbling, letting it go with a pop.

"Arizona…" Callie's hands searched for those pearly breasts, blue veins visible under her skin.

"Callie," Arizona countered with a smile as she moved to the other breast. She moaned at the taste of her skin, and Callie squirmed at the vibration's pleasure. She started kissing down her ribcage and dipped her tongue into Callie's navel before continuing further south.

"Hold on," Callie stopped her—though it killed her to do so. She looked down at Arizona and tucked a strand of wet blonde hair behind her ear. "You should be naked, too."

Arizona frowned. "I don't want you to run."

"I won't," Callie vowed.

Arizona sat back on the bed and began to remove her prosthesis while Callie watched. She felt her hands shaking.

"You're shaking," Callie noticed, suddenly worried.

"I'm nervous," Arizona admitted. She removed her prosthesis completely, leaning it against the side of the bed, and then removed the cloth sleeve that protected her stump from chafing. Callie's eyes were fixed to her face, and she was grateful. She lay back, her eyes squeezed shut. "Here I am. In all my naked glory."

Callie chuckled at her sarcasm, still averting her eyes from the leg. Instead, she crawled up the length of Arizona's body, hovering just above her, and brushed her lips over a soft cheek. "'Glory' is right. _God_," she breathed, "look at you."

Arizona opened her eyes, relieved to see that Callie's were still dark and lustful, wanting her. She lifted her hands to palm Callie's breasts, loving the way they felt. So soft. A little bigger than they'd been when they were eighteen.

Forcing herself to remain focused, Callie dropped her lips to Arizona's. "I want you."

Arizona fisted black hair. "Me, too. For so long."

Callie began to acquaint herself with Arizona's body. She wanted to leave nothing untouched, to tongue every inch of her. To let her know just how much she wanted her. She hungered for everything: skin, curves, that tight abdomen—all muscle and freckles and tiny blonde hairs.

When she reached a pale hip, she stopped, looking up at Arizona. "Can I touch your legs?"

After a moment, Arizona finally nodded.

Callie's hands moved down light-skinned thighs, then down a knee, a shin, a foot. She moved her lips slowly up Arizona's right leg, over the patch of hair she'd missed shaving on her knee, along her inner thigh…

Arizona's back arched, wanting more contact, wanting Callie's mouth to move just a little to the right. Just a little…

Finally, Callie moved to her left leg, holding her breath as she took in the sight of what Arizona hated most about herself. True, the scar tissue on the stump was gnarly—evidence of severe trauma—but she'd expected that much. She thumbed the thickened skin, her touch gentle as breath. Then, feeling blue eyes on her, she pressed her lips to that scar, careful not to linger too long before moving up to her inner thigh, her hand caressing the skin. And, finally, unable to wait any longer, she hovered above Arizona's center, inhaling the musty scent of it. She could see the folds glistening and ached to taste.

She looked up at Arizona's heaving chest, her lustful eyes, and maintained eye contact as she lowered enough to kiss her clit.

Arizona lifted her hips, aching for more. Callie snickered—a little prideful—and then wrapped her arms around strong thighs as she lowered her face again, tonguing her opening and then clit. She hummed at the taste, the vibration making Arizona squirm. "_Fuck_."

Callie grinned and then wrapped her lips around Arizona's distended clit and sucking on it.

"Oh…god," Arizona groaned, her hand finding the back of Callie's head and fisting her hair, forbidding her to pull away.

As if Callie wanted to pull away. She happily maintained contact, watching in awe as Arizona's face became utterly relaxed, for once not caring about anything but her own pleasure. It was well deserved, Callie thought.

When she started feeling herself getting close, though, Arizona pulled Callie toward her. It was, well, their first official time—as a couple—and in twelve years—and she wanted to come together.

Callie came to hover over her, and Arizona held her tight enough to roll them together, both breathless when Callie found herself on her back, Arizona's body pressed to hers. She ducked her head, pressing her lips to Callie's and tasting her own salty taste.

She wanted to savor the moment—what they'd both waited for, for so long—but it was hard to go slow. Arizona reached out to cup Callie's breasts, gasping at the sensation of hard nipples beneath her hands. Callie arched her back in response, gripping Arizona's body tighter, a milky thigh between her legs.

Pulling back a little, Arizona snaked her hand down Callie's body, watching brown eyes roll back into her head when her fingers parted her folds, made contact with her clit, encircling it…

At the touch, Callie found herself consumed with want. She couldn't think, couldn't see, could barely breathe, with Arizona's hand against her. She dug her head into her pillow, her breathing faltering.

Arizona shut her own eyes, pleasuring at the slip of Callie's skin, the softness inside her she'd yearned for…

As her fingers continued their rhythmic movements, Arizona opened her eyes to look at Callie's face. "What do you like?"

"What?" Callie gasped, unable to process words with Arizona touching her like _that_.

Arizona pulled her hand away and reclaimed her limbs, coming to sit a foot away from where Callie was lying down. "What do you like?" she asked again.

Callie pouted out her lower lip. "Well, I was really liking that."

Arizona smiled at her. Then, she turned serious: "Show me. I want to know what you like, when you're alone."

And—realizing what Arizona was asking—Callie felt her eyes bulge. Even the thought of…touching herself in front of Arizona made her blush. How vulnerable she'd be. How impossible of a request it was—for her to bring something so deeply private into the light. "I…" She paused. "You're serious? Right now?"

Arizona offered something betweeen a shrug and a nod.

Callie was quiet—thinking.

"We've known each other for a long time," Arizona reminded her. "I've always wondered. And this way, I'll know how you like to be touched."

Callie exhaled an unsure breath, even as her hand snaked down to the place Arizona's had been a minute before. Slowly, she began circling her clit, her eyes falling shut in response. "Really, I liked what you were doing before."

Arizona's eyes remained unblinking on Callie as her motions continued, breath beginning to come faster. After a minute, she was unable to help herself and bent over her, brushing their lips together. Callie sighed into the contact, her hand never stilling its ministrations.

"What about you?" Callie panted. "Can you show me?"

Arizona's breath hissed out over Callie's lips as she pulled back. Of course, she loved seeing Callie get herself off. But showing Callie how _she_ did it was…different. It terrified her. She'd never been that vulnerable before—with anyone. "Are you sure?"

Callie nodded, feeling herself get wetter just at the thought of it. "I want to see, too."

Arizona pursed her lips. It was only fair, she knew. But still—it was a terrifying prospect. "Okay," she finally surrendered. Slowly, she changed her position so that she lay on her stomach. She held her chin up on her hands, buying time. Self-consciously, she met Callie's eyes, laughing a little. "I feel dirty." She felt her cheeks heat up.

Her movements beginning to get faster, Callie's voice came out husky. "Show me."

Opting to just be brave and to give into what her body wanted and needed—to be touched, the way she liked, right that second—Arizona grabbed one of her bed-pillows and tucked it under herself. She slid her hands under the pillow, pressing it up toward her body as she began to thrust against it, preferring its pressure to her own hands. Her rhythm slow and steady—and then faster—she rocked her body against the it, over and over again.

Callie bit her lip at the sight, her eyes suddenly wide, not wanting to miss a second. As Arizona ground down against the pillow again, Callie heard the way her breath shuddered out as if she was working hard to be quiet, attempting to silence a moan. Suddenly, more than anything, Callie wanted to be that pillow—to have Arizona grind against her like that, breasts rubbing, breath shuddering out against the shell of her ear.

Reluctantly, Callie lifted her hand away from her own center, gently tucking Arizona's wild hair behind her ear to get her attention—wanting to stop her before it was too late. "Hey."

Arizona opened her eyes, though she continued her steady movements.

"Can you do that to me?"

Surprised, Arizona's head came up from the bedsheets, revealing how flushed her cheeks were. She sat up, hazarding, "Really?"

Callie nodded enthusiastically, pulling Arizona to her. Already, her body felt like a spring wound tight, and she knew it wouldn't take much to undo her. Still, she wanted to be undone by Arizona, to feel her slickness against her.

As Arizona came to rest between tan thighs, Callie ran her hands down her back. "You okay?"

Arizona leaned down, capturing Callie's full bottom lip between hers. "I'm good. How about you?"

Callie smiled. "I'm beyond good."

"Good," Arizona hummed, ducking her head into Callie's neck, her mouth exploring all that bare skin. She buried her hand between their bodies, pressing into Callie again, moisture immediately coating her fingers.

"Arizona…" Callie whimpered, her breath ragged.

Without a word, Arizona moved her hands to Callie's waist, steadying herself so she could thrust her pelvis down against Callie's soaking center.

"_Yes_," Callie hissed out, lifting up her hips to match Arizona's movement.

Again, Arizona ground down against her, and Callie's thighs spread wider in response, her wetness coating Arizona's pubic bone. She groaned in response, the slickness between them increasing her pleasure.

And, thrilled by the sound, Callie's legs wrapped tightly around Arizona's back, crossing at the ankle and forcing Arizona harder against her—their clits now rubbing in a way that left them both crying out. "Callie!" "Oh, yes!"

Both desperate for a release, Arizona kept grinding hard against Callie—Callie's hips rocking up against her—as they kissed, mouths sloppy and open, breaths flowing between them…

"Oh, god," Callie gasped as Arizona panted against her cheek, her movements quickening, irregular.

"_Oh!_" Arizona moaned. "That feels so good."

Soon, their movements were beyond their control, thrusts that came faster and faster and then turned to increasingly irregular jerks, their arms wrapped tightly around each other, abdomens making a quiet squelching sound in response to their sweat, to the little air between them…

"Are you close?" Arizona asked, feeling herself begin to lose control.

Utterly breathless, Callie let out something between a laugh and a moan. "I'm so—_ohhh, yes, just like that_—close. Just a few more…"

Nearly out of strength, Arizona thrust down hard another few times and then was propelled into her climax, Callie moaning along with her. They shuddered against each other as they cried out, riding out the pleasure, fumbling for each other to keep their bodies tight together.

After another minute of slowing hips, Arizona rolled off Callie and onto the bed with a sated sigh, her breath still uneven, face bright red.

Callie looked over at her, her expression exultant. "That was…"

"Earth-shattering," Arizona finished for her, flashing a tired smile.

Callie curved toward her, her thumb coming up to trace a soft cheek. "You're glowing."

Arizona ran her hand through sweat-matted hair, laughing, "So are you."

Callie shook her head. "I'm really starting to hate eighteen-year-old me, you know. I can't believe I gave up twelve years of you."

Arizona pressed their lips together, pleasuring in Callie's taste. "I know. But you were worth the wait."

Even at the simple contact, Callie felt her stomach—and something else—flutter. She moved in close enough that their legs knotted together, grateful that Arizona finally felt comfortable enough to trust her with her shortened limb. She shut her eyes, sighing in approval at the sensation of Arizona's fingertips drawing patterns on her bare skin.

After a few minutes of comfortable quiet, Arizona broke the silence. "Did you ever read that myth? The one about soulmates—how humans once had two sets of arms and legs and two faces?"

Callie hummed in recognition, her eyes still shut. "Oh, yeah. From Plato's _Symposium_, right?"

Arizona nodded. "And how it was before anyone knew anything of love because they were attached to their 'other half,' so to speak. And there were men and women, and women and women, and men and men attached, and none of that mattered back then."

"And then Zeus thought they were getting too powerful and thunderbolted them apart, splitting everyone in two," Callie summarized.

"Right, and the myth claims that, now, that's why we spend our lives looking for our other halves: looking for the person to make us whole again, the person who sees our pain and doesn't want to run from it."

Callie lifted her head onto her elbow and gave Arizona an endeared smile. "Are you just musing aloud, or is there a point to all this talk?"

Swallowing her smile, Arizona rolled her eyes. "I'm getting to it."

"Okay." Callie leaned in and pressed her lips to the tip of Arizona's nose.

Arizona pouted out her lower lip in response, and Callie laughed. "Keep going! I want to know what you're thinking."

"I just…" Arizona paused. "I know it's just Ancient Greek lore, but I always thought it was an interesting idea—the notion that, when you really love someone, sex isn't just sex but an attempt to shove yourselves back together. To become one—the way you would've been, in another life."

Suddenly, Callie got it. Her lips lifted into a lazy smile. "Oh, yeah. I get it." She pressed a kiss to Arizona's lips, her jaw, the hollow of her throat…

Arizona's eyes fell shut, her heart machinegunning in her chest.

"That's what we just did," Callie offered against sweat-slicked skin. She shoved a thigh between Arizona's legs. "Tried to impel our bodies back together, become one."

Arizona pulled back to look into those warm brown eyes. Quietly, she added, "Like soulmates." She watched Callie's eyebrows fly up and instantly panicked. "I mean-"

"No," Callie soothed, her hand curling around Arizona's back. "You're right: Like soulmates." And, looking into that rosy face, those bright blue eyes, she felt love flash-flood inside her.

* * *

**As always, I live for sweet reviews. Gimme!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Let me know what you think!**

* * *

Callie woke up the next morning to the scents of laundry detergent and sex, her body curled around Arizona's, only a thin sheet covering their bodies in the summer heat.

She pressed her lips to the nape of an ivory neck, breathing in the scent of her skin.

Arizona, slowly waking, shivered at the contact, at Callie's warm breath against her.

Callie smiled. "Good morning."

Arizona just hummed in response, pressing her body back against Callie's, their legs braiding together.

"So…" Callie laughed. "Yesterday was fun."

Arizona turned in her arms, feasting her eyes on all that gorgeous, glowing skin. "I'm glad to have such a large property, or I'd worry about the neighbors getting an earful and making a noise complaint," she chuckled. Then, she turned serious. "You know, last night with you was different."

Suddenly self-conscious, Callie's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Arizona shrugged. "Sometimes, when people touch me, they seem…reluctant. Or, like, hesitant. Not just with sex. In general. Like I'm a porcelain doll."

Callie nodded, listening.

"And, even with sex, a lot of the time it's like women want to unravel the mystery of my body, disabled and different. You don't treat me like there's something wrong with me. You don't treat me like I'm breakable."

"Well, I've known you forever," Callie reminded her. "I know how strong you are." And, always an enthusiastic toucher, she ran her hand down a slim waist.

Arizona smiled. "Yeah." She leaned in, pressing her lips to Callie's cheek.

Callie sighed into the touch. "God, how alone I've been, all this time," she realized, with Arizona's breath washing over her neck.

Arizona pulled back, searching her face for an explanation.

"I mean," Callie blushed, "it's been a while. And it's never been like this."

* * *

Downstairs, they sat together on the couch, steaming mugs on the coffee table in front of them. Arizona—finally comfortable being naked, so to speak, in front of Callie—had her prosthesis leaned on the side of the couch, her legs bare, save for her tiny athletic shorts.

Callie reached out, her fingers running along Arizona's shortened limb, the long, thick scar. Quietly, she asked, "What's it like?"

"It doesn't come naturally," Arizona admitted. "I mean, I had two legs my entire life, and now there's just…empty space on one side. Even now, I expect to look down and see both my legs when I wake up in the morning, but instead there's just one and then a scarred thigh, useless without my prosthetic."

Callie nodded.

"And people always say to be grateful—that I didn't lose more, that the bomb didn't kill me, but…" She trailed off, not bothering to finish the thought.

Callie tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "You're allowed to mourn what you've lost."

"I know," Arizona chuckled. "And I do mourn—trust me. People just want to see veterans as heroes, and they just want to see people with disabilities as 'inspiration': like, 'if this one-legged lady can go to the gym, then so can you!'" She rolled her eyes.

Callie made a face. "That seems kind of gross."

Arizona shrugged. "It is what it is. And you already know that it can feel the same way in the gay community. Like, think about the 'It Gets Better Project'—there's always a desire for our community to inspire, to say 'it used to be hard, but I'm still living, and it's all better, now.'"

Callie smirked. "When is anything 'all better'? I feel like, yeah, we grow up, but even if our old problems go away, we're still saddled with new sets of problems all the time."

"Exactly! And a lot of the videos come from people who aren't even that happy—they're getting divorced, or they hate their office job, or they're not on speaking terms with their parents…"

"Right. Like, sure, they're living, but do they feel alive? Are they happy?"

Arizona nodded, her eyes boring into Callie's. "Right."

* * *

After breakfast, Arizona caught Callie staring and instantly felt nervous. "What?"

Callie offered a guilty look. "I want to do something with you this morning—before I go home."

"Oh, no."

Callie laughed. "It'll be fun."

Arizona fixed her with a suspicious look. "What is it?"

"Let's jump from the rock."

"You're scared of heights!"

"Terrified," Callie frowned. "But I'll be okay. You'll hold my hand."

"You really want to? _Now_?"

Callie nodded.

"Well, it _is_ a hundred degrees out," Arizona conceded. "It might be nice."

"Yay!" Callie cheered.

Arizona smiled. "Just let me grab us some towels and we'll go."

Hand-in-hand, they strode through the orchard, nostrils immediately assaulted with the cloying scent of rotting fruit. Flies buzzed around the fallen peaches, and they had to side-step them to avoid mushing up the soles of their shoes.

Callie's eyes settled on Arizona, taking in her freckles, her sun-kissed skin, her golden hair. Instinctively, she squeezed her hand.

Arizona turned to her, lips lifting into a smile. "You're so pretty."

"You are," Callie insisted.

They kept walking, now along the edge of the lake, moving toward the boulders on the opposite side. A few minutes later, there they were: standing on the center boulder, the one whose peak jutted out like a diving board.

Arizona sat on the rock, already pulling her shirt over her head, while Callie walked over to the edge, looking at the water below.

"I changed my mind."

Arizona's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"We should go back. I don't want to swim anymore."

"Callie!" Arizona laughed. "Come on. We came all the way out here, and I'm hot now. The water will be nice."

"We could still swim," Callie amended. "Let's just not jump."

"We're going to jump," Arizona insisted. "We'll do it together." She stood up and walked over to Callie, her hands teasing the hem of her t-shirt. "Come on. It'll be fun."

Callie let out a breathless laugh. "Fine." She discarded her shirt and began unbuttoning her shorts. "We'll do it. I'll do it."

"Yay!" Arizona got to work on her own jeans.

A minute later, they were naked, and Arizona removed her prosthesis and cast it to the side. Callie held out her hands, helping to pull her up to her feet. They wrapped an arm around each other's backs and moved toward the boulder's edge. They looked down at the water far below.

"Wow," Arizona noted, "it didn't look this high up before."

"Glad you think so, too."

Arizona turned to look at her. "You ready?"

Callie let out a sudden laugh. "Are you kidding?"

"It'll be fun! You'll be glad you did it."

"Eh," Callie disagreed, her heart beating in her ears.

Arizona bumped Callie's hip with hers. "On the count of three. Ready?"

"Not ready."

Arizona ignored her. "One…"

Callie gulped.

"Two…"

Callie squeezed her eyes shut.

"Three!"

A minute later, they came up for air, breathless, their limbs egg-beatering beneath the murky water.

"We did it!" Callie exclaimed.

Arizona grinned. "You survived."

Callie ducked deep underwater, briefly grabbing a pale foot on her way back up. She heard Arizona's muffled yelp and laughed, water going up into her nostrils. She came up for air, coughing.

"Serves you right," Arizona joked. "I thought you were a demonic catfish."

Callie coughed out another laugh. Then, she turned to float on her back, and Arizona joined her, intertwining their hands to ensure they'd stay side-by-side.

* * *

The next morning, Arizona rode her bike over to Callie's. Though they'd had plans to see each other later that day, she'd remembered her promise to her parents that she'd see a movie with them and therefore needed to change their plans. She rang the doorbell, and Carlos opened the door. "Arizona!"

"Mr. Torres!" Arizona smiled. "It's great to see you on your feet."

"It's great to see you, period," Carlos grinned. "I know you and Calliope have been spending a lot of time together this summer."

Arizona nodded. "We have." She tilted her head, attempting to look past him into the house. "Is she here?"

"Oh." Carlos remembered his manners and opened the door wide, inviting Arizona in. "She's just upstairs. Lucia's in the dining room. Please, sit, let her get you a drink. I'll go get Calliope."

"I can get her," Arizona offered quickly.

"No, it's good for me to go up and down the stairs," Carlos insisted. "Lucia will love to see you."

Hesitantly, Arizona made her way into the dining room—remembering well the layout of Callie's house from their childhood days.

Lucia looked up from her book when she heard Arizona's deliberate steps. "Arizona!" She stood up, walking around the grand table to wrap the blonde into a hug. "It's so good to see you."

"You, too."

"Can I get you anything to eat or drink?"

Arizona shook her head. "I'm fine, thank you. I'm just waiting for Callie." She pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Of course," Lucia smiled. She sat across from Arizona, her full attention on her guest. "How has your summer been?"

"It's been good. Hot, as always."

Lucia chuckled politely. "As always. It's nice that you and Calliope have been catching up. Aria said she got a drink with you, too."

"We ran into each other, yes," Arizona confirmed.

Lucia continued smiling, her face suspiciously wrinkle-free. "Wonderful."

Arizona offered a closed-lipped smile in response, not knowing what else to say.

Thankfully, Callie descended the stairs just then, saving them from their quiet awkwardness. "Hey," she breathed as she came to sit beside Arizona.

"I was just telling Arizona how glad I am that you two are spending so much time together this summer," Lucia offered.

"Oh. Yeah." Under the table, Callie rested her hand on Arizona's thigh. "We have."

"And friends are important," Lucia continued, "but it's high time that Calliope starts thinking about romance, too."

"I think about romance," Callie defended.

"You haven't this summer," Lucia argued. She turned back to Arizona. "Do you remember George O'Malley from school? He was a few years younger than you two, but he's grown up just wonderfully. I tried to set Callie up with him, and she refused."

"Mother, I can pick out who I want to date all by myself."

"Don't get bratty, mi amor," Lucia chastised. "I'm just looking out for you." She looked at Arizona again. "Perhaps you know someone. College educated—ideally graduate school. Over six-foot-one. A Christian, obviously."

_Obviously_, Arizona thought.

"Mom, I don't need anyone setting me up. I'm already seeing someone I like." Her grip tightened on Arizona's thigh.

Lucia froze, her eyes darting between Callie's face and Arizona's. Her face blanched. "You can't mean…"

"I mean, I'm dating someone great."

"What's his name?

Arizona swore she heard an emphasis on _his_. As if gender was what was most important.

"Um, his name is," Callie hesitated, "Ari…stotle."

"His name is Aristotle?" Lucia scoffed.

"His name is Aristotle?" Arizona echoed.

Callie glanced at Arizona's face and then turned back to her mother. "Um, yeah. 'Aris,' for short."

Lucia's lips settled into a sparkling smile. "Oh, that's fabulous, Calliope. You both have Greek names! It's a match made in Heaven."

Callie nodded robotically. "Totally."

* * *

Outside, Callie and Arizona began walking toward the forest, a brief hike before Arizona went over to her parents' house.

Callie trod over the dry pine needles beside Arizona. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good," Arizona quipped. "You?"

Callie's eyes focused on her indiscernible expression. "Good."

They continued walking in silence.

Finally, Callie: "Are you mad at me?"

Arizona's pace faltered. She sighed. "No. Not mad."

"You seem kind of mad."

"I'm not," Arizona insisted as they continued moving toward the fields of dry grass in the distance. "I just wish you weren't ashamed of me."

"I'm not ashamed of you," Callie argued. She reached for Arizona's hand, urging her to stop walking.

Reluctantly, Arizona paused and turned to meet Callie's eyes.

"I'm not ashamed of you," Callie exhaled, her tone solemn. "But you know my mom—you saw the way she is. I'm just trying to figure out how to tell her about you."

Arizona nodded. "You're right, I know. Coming out is scary. Especially when your parents want you to be with a college-educated at-least-six-foot-one Christian guy, and I'm none of those things."

"I'm glad you're none of those things," Callie joked.

Arizona smiled. "I'm not mad. I wish things were different, but I'm not going to pressure you to do anything before you're ready. Take all the time you need. Really. I'll be here."

Callie's thumb brushed over her soft cheek. "Thank you."

"In the meantime, though, I'm not dressing up like this Aristotle guy. No matter how many sexual favors you offer me," Arizona chuckled.

"No dressing up required," Callie swore. "But, if you ever need a sexual favor, I'm your girl."

"Good to know."

They kept moving, traipsing through the fields until they stood at the base of the water tower.

"You really do like it up there."

"Don't you?" Arizona looked up. "You can see everything." And, with that, she began climbing the ladder, knowing Callie would follow.

At the top, she looked out at the view. Callie came up behind her, wrapping her arms around a lithe middle and following her sightline out toward the landscape. Arizona leaned back against her chest, inhaling a deep breath to take in the sweat and sweetness of her. "Tell me a secret."

"Hmm," Callie thought, her hum vibrating against Arizona's neck. "My favorite fruit has always been mangoes-"

"Doesn't count. I already knew that."

"_Until_ this summer," Callie finished. "Now, I only want peaches." Her tongue found the shell of Arizona's ear, and her voice suddenly came out breathy. "They taste like you."

Arizona turned in her arms, her hands caressing Callie's sides. She pressed their lips together, her mouth immediately opening, her breath shuddering out. She pulled away to breathe, only for Callie to press harder against her and lock their lips again. "You taste so good," she growled.

Arizona laughed. "That's a sweet secret."

Callie grinned. "I hoped you'd think so."

Arizona turned back around in Callie's arms, looking out at the scenery again. "So tell me about this guy you're dating."

Callie groaned.

"It's okay. Really," Arizona assured her. "I was kidding. You don't have to explain to your parents that you're with me, if you don't want to."

"I do want to."

Arizona turned her head, offering Callie a kind smile. "I know, and you'll tell the world when you're ready."

"Oh, I'm ready to tell the world," Callie assured her. "Just not my parents." She extracted herself from Arizona and walked over to the edge of the tower. After one final glance in Arizona's direction, she cupped her hands over her mouth. "I'M DATING ARIZONA ROBBINS!"

"Callie!" Arizona exclaimed, blushing instantly.

Ignoring her, Callie walked over to the other side of the tower to shout in the other direction. She looked out at the farms, the silos, the trees, the endless meadows. "I'M DATING ARIZONA ROBBINS!"

"Oh my god." Arizona felt her cheeks redden, and Callie cackled at the sight.

Below, a farmer came out of his barn, searching for the nuisances who were making all the noise, and Callie and Arizona ducked, grabbing hold of each other, giggling.

* * *

The following evening, Aria strode into Callie's room. "Hey, do you have a summer dress I can borrow? It's so hot tonight."

"Sure," Callie nodded over to her closet, indicating that Aria could take her pick. She looked back at her vanity mirror, wincing as she plucked a stray hair from between her brows.

Aria glanced over at her. "You ready for tonight?"

"Of course," Callie quipped. "It's just dinner."

"With our parents and your girlfriend."

Callie bit her bottom lip. "Hey, they don't know that."

Aria's eyebrows furrowed. "Aren't you going to tell them?"

Callie's eyes bulged. "Tonight? Are you kidding? No way."

"You should," Aria insisted. "Secrets are toxic."

Callie scowled at her, suddenly puerile. "Don't be bossy."

"I'm your big sister!" Aria laughed. "I'm here to guide you."

"I don't need guiding."

Aria smirked, grabbing a dress of its hanger and moving toward the door.

* * *

Half an hour later, Carlos opened the front door to let Arizona in, pulling her into a loose hug. "We're so glad you agreed to come over for dinner."

Arizona smiled. "Thanks so much for inviting me."

She followed him into the foyer, into the grand room—a chandelier hanging from the ceiling—and then into the living room where Lucia, Aria, and Callie sat around the coffee table, eating hors d'oeuvres.

They stood up when she walked in.

"Arizona," Lucia hugged her. "Welcome back."

Aria offered her a brief hug, and then Arizona was face-to-face with Callie, and they instantly wrapped their arms around each other. "Hey."

Callie breathed in the scent of her hair, reluctant to pull back.

"Won't you sit?" Lucia offered politely, gesturing toward the space beside Callie.

They all sat.

"So tell us more about your summer," Lucia prompted. "Anything exciting going on?"

_Falling in love_. "No," Arizona lied, shaking her head one too many times. "More of the same. Growing peaches, picking peaches, selling peaches…"

Carlos grinned. "I love those peaches."

Arizona grinned back. "You do."

"And how are your parents?"

Arizona turned back to Lucia. "They're good. Enjoying retirement, I think. Lots of gardening and barbecuing and crossword puzzles. How about you?"

"Well, a homemaker never retires," Lucia chuckled. She eyed her husband. "Not when this one likes sweets so much."

"Which you aren't going to make anymore," Callie reminded her.

"Mija, pies aren't bad," Lucia defended.

"Um, yes they are."

"They have fruit in them!" Carlos insisted.

Aria rolled her eyes. "And butter, and sugar, and more butter, and more sugar…"

Carlos waved his daughters off. "Let me have this _one_ joy."

Aria's mouth fell open. "Daddy! You have us!"

"You don't count," Carlos laughed, clearly teasing.

Already moving on, Lucia's attention turned back to Arizona. "Arizona, how is your leg?"

Arizona blanched. "What?"

Callie—who had been crunching on a carrot a second before—suddenly stilled, her cheeks were puffed out with the pressure of those tiny orange chunks.

"Your war injury," Lucia clarified, her tone gentle. "We know your leg was amputated."

"Wait, _what?_" Aria twisted around to inspect Arizona and Callie's faces. "Really?"

Arizona attempted to swallow the stone in her throat. More than anything, she wanted to reach out, to grab Callie's hand, but she knew she couldn't.

"Mom," Callie began, her voice quiet, "I don't think that's really appropriate dinner conversation."

"Oh." Lucia looked at Arizona's face, suddenly taking note of her discomfort. Then, effusively: "Oh, Arizona, I'm so sorry. Was that inappropriate? Forgive me. I didn't mean to upset you."

Arizona tried to smile. "It's fine. And, um, so is my leg. Thank you for asking."

A silent moment passed and then, finally, Carlos changed the subject. "So, Calliope, your mother tells me you're seeing someone."

Callie's cheeks flushed. "Uh…yeah."

Aria's eyes widened. "You told them?"

"What?" Callie shook her head. "No."

Lucia's brows furrowed. "What didn't you tell us?"

"Nothing."

"So you _did_ tell them?" Aria asked, clearly confused.

Arizona looked down.

"No." Callie put up her hand, stopping Aria from asking another question. She sighed. "Daddy, do we have to talk about this now?"

"Calliope, this is appropriate dinner conversation," Lucia insisted. "We have to talk about _something_."

"Fine."

"So tell us about this Aristotle guy," Carlos prompted. "You call him Aris?"

Arizona risked a peek at Aria, and they shared a look.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Callie nodded. She bit her bottom lip.

"Tell us more, mija. How old is he? What does he look like?"

"He's, um, my age," Callie invented. "Blonde, blue eyes."

Lucia smiled. "Oof, what a mix. You'll have beautiful children."

"Mom…"

Lucia turned to Aria and Arizona. "Have either of you met him?"

Aria's hands fidgeted. "Uh, I haven't. I'm sure that sh—_he_—is great, though."

Lucia reached out toward Arizona. "How about you?"

"Oh. I, uh," Arizona felt Callie's eyes on her, "no, I haven't."

"When can we meet him, mija?" Carlos asked. "He might be my future son-in-law."

Arizona winced.

So badly, Callie wanted to reach out, to grab her hand, but she knew she couldn't.

"And what about you, Arizona?" Carlos asked. "Do you have an, erm, domestic partner?"

"Daddy…" Callie began.

Lucia frowned. "Don't be rude, Calliope. The lesbians can find love, too."

"I know they can 'find love,' bu-"

"Don't be rude, mi amor," Carlos chastised. "Let our guest speak."

Feeling all those expectant eyes on her, Arizona felt herself blush. "No, I don't have a domestic partner."

"Do you have a…girlfriend, then?" Lucia asked.

Arizona paused before answering—silently deciding something. Then: "I have someone I care about very much."

Callie's breath caught.

"Tell us about her," Carlos requested.

Callie felt her heart hammering in her chest.

"Well," Arizona began, "we've known each other for a long time, and I think we understand each other better than anything."

Lucia and Carlos nodded in understanding. Aria stared at her. Callie looked down.

A hint of a smile graced Arizona's lips. Even if Callie couldn't talk about her, she was glad she was free to talk about Callie. "And she's smart, and strong, and caring, and honorable, and…"

"I hope we'll get to meet her one day," Carlos smiled.

"Yes, you deserve someone great," Lucia agreed. "It's great to hear you talk about her. She must be very special."

"She is."

Callie inched her hand over to Arizona's outer thigh, her pinky just barely brushing her denim-clad leg.

Not wanting to blow Callie's cover, Arizona looked straight ahead, smiling at Lucia and Carlos. "So how long have you two been married?"

"Wait," Callie breathed.

"Callie, don't," Arizona warned, almost inaudibly.

"There's no Aristotle."

Lucia and Carlos stared at her in question.

Aria stood up. "I need a drink."

"What?"

Callie bit her lip. "I made him up."

Arizona shook her head. "You don't have to do this now."

Callie reached for her hand, entwining their fingers. She looked deeply into those blue eyes, that sweet face… "I want to."

Lucia's brows knit together. "Calliope, what…"

Carlos blinked. "I don't understand."

Callie turned back to her parents. "There's no Aristotle. Only Arizona."

Lucia looked down at their clasped hands. "I don't think I understand."

A minute later, the clack of heels drew near—Aria returning with a tray of glasses. She set the tray down on the table and handed her father a glass of scotch. "Here, Daddy." A martini for her mother. White wine for Arizona. Tequila for Callie. "Here you go, baby sis."

Callie glared at her. "Thanks."

Carlos shut his eyes. "Calliope, what are you saying?"

"Callie…" Arizona warned. She knew this might not end well. She didn't want Callie to get hurt.

Callie gave her one last look, squeezing her hand in reassurance. She met her mother's eyes. "Arizona's the person I've been seeing. We're in love."


	13. Chapter 13

_Carlos shut his eyes. "Calliope, what are you saying?"_

"_Callie…" Arizona warned. She knew this might not end well. She didn't want Callie to get hurt._

_Callie gave her one last look, squeezing her milky hand in reassurance. She met her mother's eyes. "Arizona's the person I've been seeing. We're in love."_

* * *

A moment of silence.

Then, Lucia gesturing toward them both. "You are in love…with each other?"

Callie nodded.

Arizona gulped.

"You mean…romantically?" Lucia processed.

Callie nodded. "Yes, Mom. Romantically."

Carlos blinked at Arizona. "You were talking about Calliope, when we asked about your girlfriend?"

Arizona hesitated. Then: "Yes."

Slowly, Carlos's lips formed a smile and, then, his throat wrapped around a laugh.

Callie, Arizona, and Aria stared at him in confusion as his face turned red and his eyes began to water, he was laughing so hard.

"Daddy," Callie interjected, ready to burst into tears, "please don't laugh at me."

At that, Carlos attempted to sober up. "Oh, mi amor, I'm not laughing at you. This is just…such happy news."

"What?"

He set his hand on Lucia's knee, a united front. "Back when you were in high school, your mother and I used to talk about how great it would be if Arizona were a man. We thought you'd be perfect for each other!"

"It's true," Lucia admitted, a hint of a smile on her lips.

"And, now, we learn that she doesn't have to be a man, because you love her as is."

Callie's eyes widened. "So you're…not mad?"

Lucia offered her daughter a reassuring smile, genuine and bright. "We're not mad, mija."

Instantly, Callie felt all the stress and tension her body had been harboring dissipate. Her shoulders drooped, an audible sigh escaping her lips. "Really?"

Arizona squeezed her hand.

Lucia nodded. "Like your father said, this is happy news." She turned to Aria. "Aria, why don't you get us all some champagne instead? Let's celebrate! This is cause for celebration."

That night, Callie slept better than she had in years.

* * *

The next morning, after a late brunch, Callie felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. _Hey_. She could hear Arizona's smile, even over the phone. _Wanna come over?_

Twenty minutes later, as she watched Callie walk up her porch steps, Arizona didn't know if she'd ever been so happy. How nice it was, to be with Callie and to be able to share that joy with the world—to have the Torres family's blessing.

Callie leaned in for a kiss. "I can't get over last night. I knew my parents were good people, and that they loved me, but in the back of my mind, I still was so afraid they'd reject me."

Arizona reached for Callie's hand. "Well, they didn't."

"I know," Callie grinned, almost giddy. "What should we do today?"

Arizona made a face. "I should probably do some picking. Care to help?"

They grabbed a few crates to carry the peaches in and then set off into the orchard, the grove growing thicker the further they walked. Finally, Arizona stopped at one of the larger trees and set down her crate. "Start here?"

Side-by-side, they picked peaches in silence, migrating from tree to tree until the fruit filled the crates to their brims.

Falling victim to the heat of midday, they collapsed under the shade of a tree. "Here." Arizona tossed Callie a peach. "Don't get dehydrated." She bit into her own, the juice dripping down her chin and onto the soil below.

"Thanks."

Arizona's eyes were on Callie as they ate: how her lashes cast shadows over her cheeks, her nose spattered with freckles. She felt want clench within her.

Callie blushed. "You're staring."

"You're beautiful."

Callie felt her heart speed up, a warmth spreading through her. She hid her face behind her hair.

Arizona laughed.

Callie smiled at the sound, her eyes taking in the perfect pink of Arizona's lips, her square jaw. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Arizona lay back against the soft earth, and Callie mirrored the movement. "I'm just happy."

"Me, too."

"I'm glad your parents took the news so well."

Callie nodded. "I know. I never would've guessed that they'd react like that."

Arizona shrugged. "Well, they love you."

Callie took the final bite of her peach and then tossed the pit behind her. She wiped her hand on her pants. "I'm sticky now."

Arizona raised herself up on her elbow and leaned down to kiss Callie's lips. She lingered there for a second longer than usual, humming contentedly. "You taste good, though. Like a peach."

Callie chuckled. "So do you." She lifted her hand to Arizona's hip, not letting her move even an inch away.

Arizona moved her lips down Callie's jaw, tongued the place beneath her ear.

Callie's breath shuddered out.

Arizona smiled at the sound, her lips fixed to the hollow of a throat. "You said you were in love with me."

Callie could hardly focus. "What? When?"

"Last night. To your parents." She sucked on Callie's neck.

"Oh, yeah."

Arizona pulled back, her hair forming a curtain around their faces. "Did you mean it?"

Callie nodded. "More than I've ever meant anything."

"Good." Arizona ducked her head, her peach-rimmed lips finding Callie's again.

Callie groaned in response, her arms wrapping around Arizona's back and pulling her in. Her skin felt soft as a ripe pear.

Arizona shifted her position, falling between Callie's legs. Even holding most of her weight on her arms, she felt their breasts brush with every movement.

Callie growled at the sensation, overcome with want. She pulled Arizona tighter against her, their pelvises flush, the pressure instantaneous.

Arizona's breath caught in her throat.

"Is this okay?"

Arizona offered something between a laugh and a moan in response. "It's more than okay."

Callie bent her legs at the knee and reached for Arizona's ass, pulling her impossibly closer, the pressure delicious against her center.

Unable to help herself, Arizona thrust her hips, pressing herself down against Callie's heat.

"Oh, god." Callie's eyes fell shut.

A second later, Arizona rolled her hips again, and—this time—she felt Callie raise her own in response, establishing a slow and easy rhythm, their movements so small they were almost microscopic.

In the spirit of the lazy day, the humidity and the heat, Callie and Arizona made love slowly. Fully clothed, they jerked their hips against each other gently and slow, relishing in the sensations, the zippers on their jeans creating further pressure.

"Arizona..."

Arizona stomach lurched at the way Callie said her name—something between a plea and a groan, so quiet and breathy that it sounded almost reverential. She brought her lips back to Callie's and brought her hands up her sides, thumbs running over hardened nipples. She could feel them even through Callie's shirt and bra.

Callie's lips parted in a silent moan, her eyes opening to meet baby blues.

"Say it again," Arizona panted between kisses. "Say you-" She cut herself off with a loud groan. "_God, _Callie."

Callie smiled, continuing their slow and steady movement as Arizona lost focus. "What do you want me to say? That I love you?"

Arizona groaned again, tucking her head into Callie's damp neck.

Callie reached for Arizona's cheeks, guiding her face to hers: their lips pressed hard, hurried breaths exchanged. Arizona whimpered.

Callie's hips jerked up faster in response to the sound.

"S-say it," Arizona pleaded.

Callie bore her eyes into Arizona's, her movements becoming arhythmic, frenzied. She forced herself to stay focused—just a second longer. "I. Love. You."

And that was all it took: suddenly, Arizona was flung head-first into an orgasm, shuddering and spasming against Callie, who—at the sensation—tumbled into her own climax. They fumbled for each other as they continued their steady grinding, lost in the waves of pleasure that washed over them.

After another minute, Arizona collapsed beside Callie with sweat on her brow and her face flushed red.

Callie turned her head to look at her, still out of breath. "That felt so good."

Arizona grinned, then ducked her head down to kiss Callie's shoulder. "Say it again."

Callie laughed, giddy with love and glutted on pleasure. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

After lunch, Callie and Arizona got the old wooden paddles out of the barn and took the rowboat out on the lake.

Arizona paddled them out toward the center, and Callie's eyes fixed on her toned arms, the lean muscles visible beneath her thin t-shirt.

Arizona looked up toward the clouds. "It might rain. Do you want to go back in?"

Callie shook her head. "I don't mind rain when I'm with you."

Arizona dimpled back. "Say it again."

Callie affectionately rolled her eyes. "Again?"

Arizona nodded, her smile expanding.

"I love you, you goofball."

Arizona's eyes sparkled. She'd wanted this for so long.

Callie was quiet for a second, looking down at the water, the way it rippled, the lily pads bobbing each time the paddles hit the water. Then, she turned back to Arizona. "I mean it, you know. I'm in this now. I thought I'd been in love with people before, but now I don't know. It's never felt like this."

Arizona nodded. "I know." With Callie, it had always felt different.

The day began to darken as a cloud shrouded the sun, and Arizona began to turn the boat around. "It's definitely going to rain."

"Here, let me row for a bit." Callie held out her arms for the paddles. She began to paddle them back toward the shore, her lips pursed in concentration. Progress was slow, though—she couldn't seem to get both paddles to move at once.

Arizona giggled—they hadn't moved more than a few feet. "We're going to get rained on."

Callie laughed with her. "Hey, I'm a swimmer, okay? I'm not athletic in any other way. I miss my YMCA." She felt a drop of rain hit her forehead.

Arizona sat back against the hull of the boat, theatrically folding her hands behind her head. "_Ahhh_. I could get used to this."

"What? Getting escorted around your lake?"

"Mm-hm." Arizona felt a drop of water hit her arm, then another against her scalp. And another. And then a whole rush of them, drop after drop after drop pounding against everything in sight. "Another flash-flood!"

Callie screeched, dropping the paddles into the boat and looking up at the sky. It was no drizzle—buckets of water hit them head-on, a cloudburst christening the town. "I can't believe I forgot about this!" Callie had to yell to be heard over the sound of rain pounding the tin boat and lakewater.

Arizona pushed her hair out of her face. "I'm already soaking!"

"Can we get in?"

Arizona's eyes widened. "You want to swim? Right now?"

Callie grinned. Then, adorably, she worried, "Will your prosthetic leg be okay left out here in the rain?"

Arizona was already rolling up her jeans to remove it. "Yeah, it's waterproof. Just give me a sec."

After she removed her prosthetic leg, Callie helped her up and wrapped an arm tight around her back. "Okay, we're jumping in on three. You ready?"

"Ready."

On three, they jumped into the water, the movement pushing the boat back further behind them.

Arizona came up for air a second later and saw that Callie was still underwater, twirling like a sea nymph, completely in her element. She did a somersault of her own and then floated on her back, eyes shut, letting the rain hit her face.

When Callie emerged, she looked over at Arizona—wet clothes sticking to her curves—and found herself envying the water: how it could touch Arizona everywhere all at once. She breaststroked toward her.

"This feels straight out of a dream," Arizona mused, eyes still shut, once she felt Callie's body beside her.

"Like something out of _The Notebook_," Callie agreed.

Arizona reached out, entwined their hands.

* * *

Swimming gave way to showering, which gave way to talking, which gave way to dinner, which gave way to more talking. When Callie's cellphone screen lit up with a missed call notification—the screen informing her it was already eight o'clock at night—she realized suddenly that she'd spent the entire day with Arizona. And she'd loved every second of it.

They were sitting together on the couch, a blanket draped over their legs, an old _Friends_ episode on low-volume on the TV. Callie's arm was wrapped around Arizona's shoulder, her fingers absentmindedly playing with damp blonde hair. Really, though, she was solely focused on the laptop sitting on Arizona's lap, her browser open to the local school district's job postings page.

"Okay," Arizona offered, continuing their conversation, "it looks like the middle school's looking for an English and history teacher."

Callie made a face. "Middle schoolers are hard to work with."

Arizona raised an eyebrow at her.

"Too insecure and horny," Callie explained.

Arizona laughed. "Fine. Let's see what the high school needs…" She paused, scrolling down the page. "Okay. There's a secretary position. A…chemistry teacher."

Callie frowned. "I'm going to move here and be unemployed."

Arizona's hand found Callie's thigh. Reassuringly, she promised, "You will be fine."

Callie pouted out her lower lip. "I don't know anything about chemistry."

Arizona kissed her cheek then shut the laptop, setting it on the coffee table in front of them. "Let's take a break from job searching for the night," she suggested. "There will be more postings soon. Someone will get sick or have a baby or die o-"

"Oh, that's nice," Callie laughed.

Arizona smiled. "I'm not saying I _want_ someone to die. I'm just saying that things happen. There will be something for you. Come on," she turned up the volume on the TV, "don't think about it right now."

For a few minutes, they focused on the show and the characters' predictable shenanigans. When a commercial came on, Callie muted it.

Arizona turned to her, taking in that soft profile, those soulful brown eyes. She bit her bottom lip. "I still can't believe it's real, you know. Being with you, like this."

Callie's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Arizona laughed a little, suddenly shy. "I just…wanted you for so long. And now you're here, and you're staying, and…"

Callie leaned in, kissing Arizona's top lip, and then the lower one, giving each one its deserved attention. "I've wanted you, too. And the weird thing is that the want isn't fading. I always get butterflies, being with you."

"Me, too," Arizona grinned. "And guess what?"

"What?" Callie played along.

Arizona pecked her lips. "I," _kiss_, "love," _kiss_, "you."

* * *

Callie finally got home around nine and listened to her new voicemail as she got ready for bed. It was a missed call from her boss—the high school principal—telling her to call him ASAP. It was still early enough in California that he'd be up, so Callie tapped "Call" and lifted her phone to her ear.

_Hello?_

"Pete? It's Callie, calling back. Sorry about missing your call earlier."

"Oh, Callie! Yeah. I just wanted to give you a heads-up that I've just accepted a job as an administrator at Saint Mary's College, so I won't be coming back to school in the fall."

"Oh, wow."

"I'm sending an email to all the faculty soon—and of course the Board is already planning interviews—but I wanted to let you know as soon as possible since you expressed an interest in becoming a principal at some point in your career."

"I, uh, I did." Callie paused. "Thanks for the heads-up."

"Actually," Pete cleared his throat, "I already put in a good word for you with the Board, and they're hoping to interview you next week."

"Um. Wow. That's, uh." Callie laughed awkwardly. "That's fast."

Pete sensed her hesitation. "Was I…wrong to assume your interest? I hope I didn't overstep…"

"No! You didn't overstep. I really appreciate that you recommended me." Callie began to pace the length of her bedroom. "I just, um, am visiting family right now. I've actually been thinking about making a job transition myself."

"Well, becoming principal of a high school would certainly be a transition," he reminded her.

Callie nodded. "Right. Of course."

"Well, let me give you Arnold Johnson's number—he's on the Board. You can think about it and then, if you decide to call, you'll know they're already interested in you."

"Okay. That sounds great. Thanks, Pete."

"They were hoping you might be available on Thursday or Friday to meet.

Callie nodded. "Thank you so much for this, Pete. And congratulations on the new job! You deserve it."

"And you deserve _this_!" he countered. "I hope you'll do the interview. You've got nothing to lose."

* * *

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" Aria flung open Callie's curtains, waking her from her deep sleep.

"Go away," Callie groused, throwing a pillow over her head to block out the light.

Aria came to sit on the edge of her bed. "It's after eleven already. What are you, a teenager?"

"No."

Aria laughed. "You're a _moody_ teenager, then."

Reluctantly, Callie exposed her face, blinking her eyes open. "What do you want?"

"To bond. Mom's out shopping and Daddy's watching an old movie. I'm bored."

Callie growled. "I was sleeping."

Concern suddenly colored Aria's features as she looked at her younger sister's face. "You okay? You never sleep in."

"I went to bed late," Callie admitted.

"Why? Fight with Arizona?"

"No, of course not. Nothing like that." Callie sighed. "My school principal's taking another job. He thinks I have a shot at taking over for him."

Aria's eyebrows flew up. "That's what you've wanted."

"I know. But I want an admin job _here_."

"Ah, yes. You're moving here," Aria remembered. "Because you and Arizona are _in love_."

"Yeah," Callie blushed. "So I need to resign, right? I'm making myself stressed out over nothing."

Aria shrugged. "It might be worth interviewing. You have to move out of your apartment, anyway, so you can already be in town—it's not like it'd be an extra trip. And then, when you apply to be principal around here, you'll know what to expect from that interview."

"That's true."

"It's not a big deal," Aria assured her. "Now, come on! Buy your plane ticket and then let's go make mimosas."

* * *

That night, Callie slept over at Arizona's. A little after three in the morning, though, Arizona was jolted awake, the pain in her foot debilitating. She sat up in bed, biting back a cry. _Shit_. "Shit, shit, shit." She threw back the blankets to look at her left foot—surely a bear had bitten it clear off—when, again, she remembered her left foot was gone. Her left leg was gone. The pain was as real as anything, but her foot was no longer there. "Shit."

She grabbed her prosthetic leg from where it leaned against her side table and attempted to don it. But it was dark, and her hands were shaking from the pain, and her foot _hurt_.

Callie stirred, and Arizona froze, not wanting her to wake up.

"Arizona?"

"I'm fine," Arizona lied, her voice raising an octave in her weak attempt to sound unbothered. "Go back to sleep."

Callie ignored her, reaching for the lamp, her sight still blurred with sleep. Finally, she switched it on and blinked into the suddenly light-filled room. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

Callie sat up in bed, still groggy. "What are you doing?"

"I-" Suddenly, another wave of pain washed over Arizona, and she couldn't form words. She squeezed her eyes shut, her fists clenched so tight that her knuckles turned white.

"Arizona!" Callie worried, wide-awake at the troubling sight. "Are you hurting?"

"I'm sorry. I just-" Again, Arizona froze.

Callie's hands flitted like birds above the blonde, her frozen form, wanting to provide some sort of comfort but not knowing how to help. "What do you need?! What can I do?"

Arizona's breath stuttered out. "Can you, um. Can you get my tennis shoes out of my closet? And go downstairs and grab a steak knife from the kitchen."

Callie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but she didn't waste any time. She rushed out the door, down the stairs, into the kitchen, and found a knife. When she came back into the bedroom, she opened the closet door and saw a pair of ratty sneakers on the floor. She grabbed them and rushed to Arizona. "Here." She paused. "What can I do?"

Arizona's lips were pursed tight, her eyes squeezed shut. "Put the shoe on my prosthetic foot. Please."

"Okay." Callie did as she was told, guiding the plastic foot into the shoe and tying the laces. The fabric was full of holes. "What now?"

Finally, Arizona opened her eyes, looking down at her foot. "Now grab the knife."

Callie grabbed the knife. "Okay."

"Now stab me in the foot."

"Oka-. Wait, what?"

"Please." Another wave of pain washed over her, and Arizona dug her nails into her palms. She'd passed out before because the pain had gotten so intense.

"Arizona, what do you m-"

"Callie. Stab me. In the foot. Hard. I need to see it."

"You want me to s-"

"Callie!"

Callie met crazed blue eyes that revealed her desperation for an end to her suffering and, finally, she gripped the knife tight and stabbed it through Arizona's sneaker, creating another hole among many.

Arizona exhaled a shaky breath in relief, eyes on her shoe, her plastic foot, her brain finally soothed by the idea that there was a cause for her senseless pain.

"Arizona…?" Callie worried, her hand hesitantly hovering above a bony knee.

Arizona shut her eyes, steadying her breathing. "I'm…good."

When she finally opened her eyes, seconds, minutes, or even hours later—she didn't know—Callie was looking at her with that same concern, unblinking. "What just happened?"

Arizona tried to smile. "It's just something that helps me. It makes the pain make sense." She sighed. "Sorry. If I scared you."

Callie shook her head. "Don't be sorry. It's not something you can control."

"I know," Arizona frowned. "But thank you. For helping."

Callie nodded, her eyes still searching Arizona's face, wanting to make sure she was okay.

"I'll be fine," Arizona promised. "Go back to bed."

"Are _you_ going to be able to sleep?"

"Yeah. I'm good, really."

"Okay." Callie worked to keep her expression neutral and walked back to the other side of the bed. She lay down and shut off the lamp. She looked over at Arizona and watched her lie flat on her back, eyes on the ceiling. "Can I do anything else to help?"

Arizona dug her nails into her skin again, not wanting Callie to know how much pain she was in. She shut her eyes, worked to steady her voice. "No. I'm fine. Goodnight, Callie."

"Goodnight, Arizona." Callie turned on her side, pretending to sleep but, really, she was wide awake. Even without looking at her, she could tell when Arizona's pain was overwhelming: her breathing would speed up, or become louder, until the pain subsided. And then, finally, her breaths became even, slowed by sleep.

At the sound of her sleep, Callie turned onto her other side, studying Arizona's face. In the darkness, it was hard to make out each feature, but Callie had already memorized every detail of her. And then she couldn't help but reach toward the blonde hair splayed across Arizona's pillowcase, her fingers running over the strands with a feather-light touch. In sleep, Arizona looked at peace—her sleep was painless, and Callie was grateful that the agony had subsided at last.

"I love you," she whispered. "Goodnight."


End file.
